Mon Coryphée
by JunAegileus777
Summary: Book One: My Tears. Destiny has bound two distant souls together. Sonic and Shadow have been friends ever since they could remember. But complications will arise with an undesired disruption. Silver is yet another face in a Student Body that envies the perfect...student body. EP 8 UP! :Pub. Hiatus; SONILVADOW, primarily SONADOW. Rated M in Eps 6, 7 & 8: "They fall, as I fall."
1. Prelude

**_Mon Coryphée_**

**"Prelude"**

"That slide."

_Sniffles. Hiccups. Teardrops. They were never seen. He'd always make sure of it._

"There was always a sad, little boy on that slide."

_The boy's eyes were empty and blank. Nothing filled them. They were devoid of all feeling. Or, so it always appeared._

"He sat at the top, forlorn and lost in thought."

_The schoolchildren meandered around the play set, inherently leery and curious of the boy atop the slide. Some other boys playing Four-Square were reluctant to retrieve the kickball that bounced into the woodchip pen. The girls didn't mind the lonesome boy too much; instead, they always had something to say about him._

"_Hey. Did you hear…?"_

"_Yeah. That kid, he's supposed to…"_

"I've learned never to pay too much attention to anything I hear, growing up."

"_Whoa. That's gotta be _so _brutal…!" the hearer chirped under her breath. Her fists were clenched and bobbing back and forth. "Why doesn't he just quit, though?"_

_The boy never moved. The boy never spoke._

"_That's because his dad won't let him."_

_His sadness was never perceived. He made sure it never could._

"And apparently, so has he."

_A zephyr made his quills sway. Its gentleness didn't make him stir. But shiver. It was a quiet shiver._

_It was a sad._

_Pitiful._

_And forsaken shiver. From the loneliest boy I'd ever seen._

"And all I've ever wanted was to hold him tight."

**Prelude Set…**


	2. Opening Act

JunAegileus777: Hello, all! Penname change~! Anyway, I'm back with a new **Sonadow** story. And I bold this because unless you want to read about the various public displays of affection our main hedgies share, then I'd suggest you back away slowly (with your back button). Last chance. If you read on, you'll notice some lovely things and some interesting things. Ones more obvious, others more subtle. And if you squint, you'll find a surprise. Even with _Tenderness within a Picturesque Lie_ on an indefinite hold, here's something to tide everyone over.

Also, as the story progresses, trigger warnings will be issued. This story will contain details and instances a normal teenager probably wouldn't go through (and if you have, I apologize sincerely and pray for you in advance). Said details can't be discussed too much right now, but since this is a romance fic I suppose you can predict what it could entail. But are you so sure about _how_ they will occur?

The only things I own in this story are some incidental characters (excluding SEGA characters), setting, plotline, and terminology. Nothing else. Presenting "Prologue #2", everyone! Please R&R and enjoy!

* * *

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

**"Opening Act"**

Multitudes of stars bespangled the twilit sky: Constellations were shining through the impending darkness. The night wasn't bad for a late September. The temperature seemed calm and a bit on the warm side.

Indoor lights beamed from the open bay windows. Tall and stately, the tessellated glass appeared antiquated yet gleaming. The doubled panes were stopped at each lancet arch. The banquet hall's vaulted skylights followed the school's theme. More light beamed through them, as well.

The central clock tower's face read 7:48, and students were flocking through the Gothic French windows.

Certain ones from the Fine Arts sector of Wilhelmshaven Performing Arts Academy were garbed in their uniforms: Only the Band and Choir students were specifically told to wear their performance attire, march blazers and choir robes, respectively.

The other students were free to come in any appropriate formal attire. As long as skirt hems weren't too short and shirts were tucked in, none of the chaperones had any issues with the students. Dress suits for male students were expected, more than just preferred or mandatory. And girls were slated to be in formal outfits—but nothing like ball gowns. (That would be too formal.) But since the students had the half-way option of what to wear, the future Arts majors came in all shapes, sizes, colors, and textures. The young ladies were beautiful, and the gentlemen were dashing.

But when the Tetrarch Chorus made their appearance, everyone—and everything—paused.

Since they were going to be performing, the Senior-Class dance students were exempt from the strict dress code. They walked from an outside hall, and into the banquet area. Their stage was set up in the center of the room. It was a natural, round platform that stood above ground. The massive marble tablet was spruced up by the Theatre Department's Backstage Maintenance Crew. Surrounding a little over half the stage was everyone, including the Mayor, who had stood from his seat at a table and greeted the elite dance cell by applauding them. Everyone else followed.

Sonic the Hedgehog looked very confident as he sported his electric-blue denim ensemble, a slight shade off from his own natural color. He had a hand stuffed in his pant pocket; the other greeted the guests with a cool wave. His friendly smirks were charming. He winked at a girl, who subsequently blushed.

Knuckles the Echidna had a more comfortable jersey version of Sonic's ensemble, consisting of a shorter windbreaker, pants, and a tee underneath. His outfit was red, even down to his crosstrainers. He was walking at the right of Sonic's shoulder. He kept a straight face while he and his crewmates headed for the stage.

Espio the Chameleon was the only one that didn't truly match: His outfit was the same as Knuckles and Sonic's, but it was made of gabardine and white in color. His sleeveless tunic was much longer than both the former, but a bit shorter than Shadow's. He kept his pace at Shadow's left shoulder, silently following after with his group members. The flared mandarin collar hid his soft smile, as they rounded the apron.

As for Shadow the Hedgehog, his signature black patent-leather ensemble was enough for the girls to woo and giggle about. Some wondered how he kept it clean, and how he could possibly move in it. But the others didn't seem to care; all they knew was that Shadow looked "sexy" in it. Shadow's stoic grimace remained plastered on his face. His long coattails fluttered after him, as he and his team stretched across the "front" of the stage.

They soaked up the applause for that short while: Sonic waved both hands now, just as Knuckles acknowledged it with a nod. Espio bowed modestly, and Shadow waved down its volume. And on command, the applause ebbed into a respectful silence.

Once everyone saw the Tetrarch Chorus waiting to perform, they took their seats. Just in time for the emcee to take the stage. Sharply dressed in a cute sky-blue suit, Miles Prower held up his microphone.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he greeted everyone, waving. "Welcome back to the High School Division of Wilhelmshaven Performing Arts Academy, students and faculty! I'm your favorite junior emcee for this evening, Miles Prower—but everyone around here just calls me Tails. And I say that because there are special guests among us! Tonight, we're all here to celebrate the crowning achievements scored by this year's Senior Class. They've held their place as 'the State's most promising graduating class' for the past _three years _in a row, since their entry into the high school echelon! Let's hope and pray and cheer our Seniors on, so that they can make that title a reality! What do you say, everyone?"

Everyone, including the chaperones, clapped their positive reinforcement.

"Why, thank you! I'm sure the graduating class appreciates that!" He giggled playfully. "As an integral part of the Senior Class, the four top students here at Wilhelmshaven have a special presentation for all of you…" Tails bowed politely as he said, "Especially you, Mr. Mayor."

The Mayor nodded in acknowledgement. A quiet smirk upturned at the boy's gentlemanly bend.

"So now, without further ado, I once again welcome everyone to our Senior Class City Honors Banquet—and present to you our favorite team: The most elite high school dance group in the State…! The one and only 'Tetra-Core'—Sonic, Knuckles, Espio, and Shadow!"

That was the Theatre Maintenance's cue to handle the stage tech.

The music began with synthesized orchestral strings. Thoughtful and somewhat melancholy, the strings lightly crescendoed before pausing briefly. Then, a techno beat tapped out a soft rhythm, and thus commenced the gentle male Japanese vocals.

_Yurete iru omokage ni_

_Bokura no negai_

_Eien ni hateshinai…_

The Tetrarch Chorus's moves and rhythms were totally complimentary to the music, and the choreography was flawless. They kept a stylized pattern on the considerably small stage. Their dance styles were still harmonious with one another's. Shadow, being the stand-alone force that he was, made a lot of solo moves within the choreography, but he made sure to give his teammates a spark of attention. They were able to assist with what the audience saw on the stage just through providing backup.

Shadow incorporated his ballet into the relatively techno-rock song, including grand yet graceful gestures and body movement. He tiptoed and swiveled about, but was also able to pop and lock his body using certain techniques. A glaze had come over his eyes.

Something the Mayor noticed midway of the performance.

_Itsuka… Ienakatta kotoba…_

_Kyou wa… Kimi ni sasagetai…_

A peaceful pause allowed the Japanese vocals to echo out. Shadow took the liberty to lip-sync them. His lips motioned perfectly with the lyrics.

The original pace of the song swiftly transitioned into the last chorus. The dancers' moves became more elaborate nearest to the end of the song. Sonic broke out with wild acrobatic twists, with Knuckles and Espio conducting a friendly stage fight in the background. Shadow went in and out of partnership with them. The other Chorus dancers kept their pace and equidistance from him, until Shadow summoned them with a leading finger-snap. After wheeling back towards the center, they all struck a final salute. Sonic coupled his with a playful wink; Knuckles' portrayed rebellious duty. Espio's showed a demure adorableness, while Shadow's resembled a stringent military commander. The music faded out coolly.

And their audience handed them a job well-done.

* * *

The banquet part of the night had gotten under way. A lovely orchestral quintet was present to accompany the meal. Junior ushers and waiters were tending to tables, seating the guests and serving their dinner. Delicious baked tilapia rested atop a bed of leafy garnishes on a mahogany server, alongside the complementary colors of legumes and salads, and a basket of sweet baguettes. The drinks sparkled, merely due to effervescence, not fermentation. The older guests had to contend with either strawberry-kiwi-, peach-, or cherry-flavored sparkling water.

Because minors were present at the dinner, from both perspectives of the floor.

The Mayor seemed thoroughly impressed by the setup and the delicacies prepared. Awed by the students' culinary prowess, the young waiter serving him was modest in explaining that the menu was composed by the Cordon Bleu Club's manager, a teacher there. The students were supervised when cooking the menu items, he said—but the Mayor was still in awe of them. He even gave kudos to them and the manager; which made the junior waiter chuckle, gracious and a bit bashful.

The Tetrarch Chorus were seated close to the stage they'd performed on. Their dishes were not much different, but considering the presence of outside guests into the equation, the food choices were varied. Instead of the tilapia, Knuckles had baked chicken and Espio specially requested teriyaki _yakitori_. The junior waitress serving them blinked, a bit confused by the request via Smartphone. But the chameleon caught on to her confusion; in turn, he brought up a picture of it.

"Oh! I see, okay!" Her face brightened from the sweet-hearted clarification. She nodded vigorously, then pulled aside a fellow server. The one she pulled was nodding, apparently aware of the dish, as well. "We'll be right back with your dish, sir. I'm sure we can make an exception for _you_." She giggled, before she hovered to another table.

Espio smiled at Sonic, who'd given him a thumbs up.

"This food is pretty good, though! I've never had tilapia before!" The blue hedgehog snagged another bite of the fish. "I haven't eaten like this…in a…long time." He nodded with a suspicious vigor.

And a needling scarlet eye catching Sonic in his white lie.

Knuckles had caught him as well, it seemed. After a packed-mouth swallow, he huffed, "Hmph, you haven't eaten like this _at all, _bruh."

"What—? Gah—shh!" The hedgehog had slapped a palm over the echidna's mouth. Despite the bits of chicken still in it. "Shush, you! That's _not _what I said…!" Light emeralds darted around the room. "We're around rich-_er _people, Broseph…not so loudly, ya hear?"

But a muffled "Whatever," came from behind, along with a passive eye roll.

Espio waited patiently for his meal. Meanwhile, he was enjoying the rather amusing shenanigans his crewmates were throwing. A cute smile quirked his cheeks.

"Tada! Chicken teriyaki on grilling skewers!" the same waitress cheered upon returning with hearty grilled, glazed chicken kebabs on a dish. "Prepped up and served for our wordless wonder…!" She giggled cutely. She'd placed the plate in front of Espio before waving, "Bon áppetit!" and hovering off again.

Espio nodded his thanks, and once she disappeared he flashed a pair of chopsticks from his jacket pocket. The wonderfully crafted utensil pair was lacquered in purest black and had grayish-gold tiger streaks going up the grips. Slivers of orange moons poked out of the design, too. The flawless Asian inspiration roared like the stripes' owner from that pair.

And Sonic and Knuckles blinked as the chameleon plucked up the entrée's other vegetables. He cohesively mixed the flavors by purposely combining the _yakitori _with the veggies. An odd delight could be seen in his food-puffed dimples.

Sonic huffed a goodhearted sigh. "Pretty good stuff, huh, Espio?" He snickered.

The white-cloaked chameleon bobbed his head up and down, like an excited child.

"Heh heh! I knew we had a pretty good cooking club, but they've _really _outdone themselves this time!" Curious peridot eyes swung over to meet averted rubies. "Ya think it's because we're graduating this year?"

A junior usher, complete with a hound's-tooth waistcoat over a tailed dress shirt, happened to be passing an adjacent table when he overheard the question. His somewhat frightened eyes veered back toward the Tetrarch Chorus's table. They widened, a quiet sheen glazing them.

Shadow put down his sparkling water with a gliding gentleness. His arms motioned into their notable cross. "It's the most likely, and most logical, reason I can come up with." Scarlet eyes seared across the room. "Knowing the Cordon Bleu Club's manager, he wants his fledgling-chefs to master all their lessons before we leave."

Sonic blinked a little. "Hmm, wonder why?" Then, he chuckled. Swiping a finger under his nose, he added, "Making such a big fuss over little ol' us!" Another chuckle escaped when he noticed his statement's rhythmic whimsy. "No need! They should focus on doing their best for themselves!"

"It's good publicity for them, Sonic," Shadow pushed. "They won't start focusing on themselves until we're out of the picture. So long as we hold this school's academic standing, they're only seeing us as sponsors, in-house celebrities…" Something made him scowl bitterly. "Nothing but walking propaganda…!"

The junior usher struggled to look away from the senior dance crew. The frightened glaze softened as his eyes bobbed from one senior's face to another's. Upon falling onto Shadow's, the glaze became more of a dreamy aura. But his brows dipped as they darted back and forth between his and Sonic's.

"Aw c'mon, Shadow-Baby! Don't sound so dismal," Sonic passed it off with a cute wink. "I'm sure they're happy with whosever interest they snag! It could've been anybody—didn't have to be us, y'know."

Shadow glared at him with an oddly blank intensity. "Don't call me by that name here, you idiot…!"

Sonic, thankful that he was far enough away, scratched in between his head quills. "Heh heh, must've slipped out…! My bad."

The junior usher's cheeks turned coy pink at the sight of the two's suddenly personal banter. His steps across the room were a bit aimless.

And an older usher took quick notice. "Hey, dumbwaiter. Get a move on and shush the guests. The Mayor's about to speak."

The waspish whisper and sharp pat, though hidden by the hall's darkening lights, startled the young man all the same.

Miles Prower had resumed expressing the acknowledgements on Wilhelmshaven's behalf, and led the applause for the Mayor approaching the podium. The relatively young fox shook his hand before going on his scheduled break. Taking a seat at an end of the Tetrarch Chorus's table, of course. His "big brother" Sonic showed him a thumbs up, which was returned with a toothy grin.

The Mayor began by congratulating the Senior Class on such a great service they were doing not only for their school, but for the entire school district and their hometown. Apparently, the standardized test scores of that class were the highest out of all the high schools there—once again. Their test averages competed with that of other schools in the country, enough to be neck-and-neck with other rivaling schools outside of the State and bringing up the Nation's ranking in education.

And with this high a standing, Wilhelmshaven Academy was able to keep the Nation's education rank at #6 in the world for the past three years. All thanks to Shadow the Hedgehog: He was the projected Class Valedictorian, though he tried to keep it hush-hush.

"…If you'd be so kind, Shadow the Hedgehog, as to present yourself to our fellow guests, please?"

The black hedgehog did as asked, and took in the applause. It was only after a quick bow to the Mayor that he made a swift exit. He was walking a bit quickly for leaving the dining hall.

Even though the Mayor didn't pay it much mind as he went on with his speech.

Sonic sat uneasily in his seat. He had his arms and legs crossed, Knuckles and Espio to each side and Shadow's empty seat furthest away. He would glance back at the doors every now and then to see if Shadow had returned.

Strangely, it turned into him waiting for some twenty-odd minutes.

* * *

A faucet handle pair twisted into the "on" position. It possessed an elegant combination of brass and ivory, but to Shadow it was nothing special. The lukewarm water came to a slow pour as Shadow splashed it onto his face. He sighed.

"He didn't have to acknowledge me like that."

His crimson eyes gazed at himself in the mirror in front of them. They were clear, attentive.

Agitated.

There was a soft growl. "_None _of them should be thanking me…!"

Shadow's thoughts seemed to be darting back and forth from the banquet. His mind seemed to be dragging him to and from a purposely suppressed realm. Within it, he recalled a face. So much yet nothing like his own.

'They're all making a mistake. I'm not that praiseworthy…!' Shadow's eyes trembled. An abrupt tense frustration brimmed his eyelids. 'In fact…'

The faucets were turned back; the water stopped.

'…I'm not praiseworthy at all.' His mind sighed for him.

"Shadow, there you are."

Inward fury was sacrificed to fake surprise. The hedgehog's eyes peeked over his tall collar to see who'd spoken. Using the mirror, Shadow narrowed his eyes at the sight of Sonic the Hedgehog.

His blue counterpart was leaning casually against the boys' bathroom doorframe. He smirked a little at him. He saw Shadow slowly straighten himself from over the sink. Pressing a hand against the edge of the sink, he noticed him leaning on it lightly.

"Hey, you all right there?" Sonic wondered, making an instinctive trot to his side. "Is it your head—?"

The other's hand was swatted away. Sonic blinked wildly.

"It's fine." The black hedgehog looked away. "I'm frustrated right now. Just let me be."

"Frustrated? Why? What happened?"

"It's none of your business. Just go back to the dining hall."

Outside the bathroom, though, the same shadowy usher was there. He, coincidentally, was heading for the restroom, too. Upon hearing Sonic and Shadow's light altercation, he froze like a deer in headlights. He quaked at the sudden silence within, so he gawked before thinking to hide. He threw his palms over his mouth. Nervous tawny lemons hesitated toward a sideward glance.

"Everyone was starting to worry about you, you know. You've been in here for a good half hour now." Sonic placed a comradely hand around the other's shoulders. "Namely, I was worried, since I'm such a worrywart when it comes to _you._"

Another silence fell beyond the doorway. But the young usher assumed it was just a conversational pause, that Shadow wasn't intending to answer. So the usher mustered up his courage to deflect the awkwardness that might ensue. He prepped up a feigned "potty dash" and aimed for the first open stall he saw.

"So sorry! Bathroom emergen—!"

Under the clearer lights the bathroom's parlor looked clean and neat. The six individual bowls were pearly, their faucet handles gleaming and nearly spotless. There was a somewhat resistant palm resting on one's edge. Against it was a sleek black cascade of coat. Denim jacket hems were exceedingly close to the patent-leather's.

So were the two chests of the embracing males.

The heart of the young usher pooled under his feet. Fresh white ears perked higher to a cut-off moan and quieting sigh. Sonic's nibbling teeth broke from Shadow's lip. He unraveled his arm from around the other's back and straightened his own, startled by the other boy's stillness.

Shadow gawked at him in confusion. A much deeper hidden frustration welled up and flushed out the coy pink cheek blossoms with a deeper red.

An infuriated red.

Sonic made a curious face. "Hey…? Don't I know you from somewhere?"

The white hedgehog trembling in front of them could neither move nor speak. His shock forbade him to retaliate. 'Oh God…! Oh God, oh dear God! What did I…?!'

"Yeah, your name's Silver, right?" Sonic led Shadow next to him. The one in question caught a glimpse of the building fury in the black hedgehog's face. "Yeah, yeah, I think so…but more importantly…" A dark glare fell over his smirk. "Can we help you?"

'What did I just see…?! And…what do I do now?!' The poor boy's eyes were quivering like mad.

And he was all too petrified to feel the profuse wet stain falling between his pant legs.

**Opening Act **Set…

* * *

Quick Reference - Honors Banquet Performance Theme: "Warriors" by Yuichi Ikusawa, _Yu-Gi-Oh! _(ED3).


	3. Premier Épisode

_**Mon Coryphée**_

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Premier Épisode"_

Wilhelmshaven Performing Arts Academy's Student Council was meeting up for another session that month. The members were seated around a long table, specially made for the Student Council of a previous class, of brightest cherry and marble engravings, featuring the school crest in its middle. The heraldic shield bore the school colors of white, aubergine (or, in other words, purple), and gold. The gold laurels acknowledged academics, while the gilded ivory lyre represented the Fine Arts. It was without the crisscrossing halberds, but the school motto graced the shield's tip: _"Prosperitas est amoris, amor est prosperitas,"_ it read in Founding Fathers' tongue. It meant that a student's success in life would hopefully equate a passionate drive for whatever art they excelled in, found a calling for. And in return, that love would propel them to new heights, onto their road to destiny.

In other words, "Success is love, and love is success."

Present were the five chief members of the Student Council: the Treasurer, the Archivist, the Secretary, the Vice-President and, of course, the President. They were all meeting for a "wind down" from the City Honors Banquet that yesterday. It was directed at the Seniors in the Arts Foci of Wilhelmshaven: Everyone in Band, Orchestra, Theatre, Dance, Art, Choir, and the subclass arts was recognized by the City Mayor for outstanding accomplishment, and Wilhelmshaven was awarded a hundred thousand-dollar grant from the State. The Student Council would automatically be granted one-tenth of that money, while a half of it went to the local school district and the rest went to the other Wilhelmshaven chain academies. Monies were managed fairly well at Wilhelmshaven's High School Division. Almost all student functions were funded by the student government, but if they were ever in a pinch Wilhelmshaven's officials wouldn't hesitate to help out.

But the Academy's Student Council Treasurer, Wave the Swallow, had everything under control. She nailed the banquet's monetary estimates down to the cent. Thoroughly impressed were Archivist Miles Prower and Secretary Rouge the Bat, who applauded her superior mathematical accuracy. Sitting with them were the Vice-President and the President, discussing the aesthetics of the banquet.

"I thought the City Honors Banquet went really well," Tails said. "The arrangements were spot-on, and the menu was superb! Even the junior service crew looked sharp and did pretty well. Not bad…for lowerclassmen, I mean." He wagged a haughty finger.

"Don't get so snooty now, Little Miles," Secretary Rouge chided, waving down a hand. "_You're _supposed to be in the 4th grade_. _But since your test scores skyrocketed every year in Primary Division, you've skipped quite a few levels to become our 'Honorary Freshman'…!" She stroked his forehead, teasing his bangs before planting a seductive big-sister kiss on it.

A coy blush brightened the fox boy's cheeks. Hearts replaced his eyes. "Did I ever mention how lovely you look today…?" the boy drawled. Tails was a bit too young to be love-struck by such a feminine gesture. Seeing that he was thrown into high school, everyone guessed it was only a matter of time before girls started to matter to him. His love-struck antics always came off as cute and innocent, though. Which drove Tails' "Cuteness Meters" up to stratospheric heights. Neither Rouge, nor even Wave, could refute the adorableness.

"Your cuteness abashes me, Archivist Miles Prower," Wave chirred like a bitter crone. Broad tangerine lenses tossed flecks of incoming morning light. But sky blues eyed the table's head.

"Oh, Wave, you know you want to say it too!" Rouge teased, her arms crossing under her voluptuous chest. She flashed her manicured talons in a witchlike splay. "Isn't it terrible PR to put down others' compliments and disprove your own cuteness admission? You know he's such an angel, Wave…" She winked at Tails. "Just admit it, and your life will go _so _much more smoothly!" Even her snickers sounded like a witch's.

"Enough, Secretary Rouge," Treasurer Wave was able to rebuke, tilting her glasses higher onto her beak. "Let's just drop the subject. You're losing sight of this meeting's focus. Hm." Her eyes iced back into focus at the table's head. "Plus, you're annoying me, _and _our Councilman-in-Chief."

But when everyone else turned their gazes on him, he said nothing. They blinked a little.

Shadow the Hedgehog's scowl brought together his militaristic sable. The patent-leather uniform bared dark fangs and an icy, masculine elegance. Both of which were "turn-ons" to fangirls who happened to fall for stereotypical, devilish bad-boys like Shadow. Only Shadow wasn't known for such a hackneyed label. He was best known for two characteristics he wore on his sleeves, in a near-literal sense.

The black hedgehog was a commander in every sense in that Academy, and the air around him could deter any gawks. Like a scarlet letter, the "Ice Prince" moniker was stitched into his armbands. The Academy's student body feared, yet coveted, his position. He was a force of nature all on his own; his Tetrarch Chorus fellows only made him into an antisocial bastion. Although, fangirl mobs knew their place on the scholastic ladder also reflected their place on the social ladder. Shadow was way out of their league, they realized. But what made them feel better was the fact he wasn't dating any other girls. It was something that gave them mixed feelings and the opportunity to discover their own true loves. The Student Council President didn't care much about their life choices in the least bit.

Shadow was considered a "virgin" only to the extent of girls. His placement on the boys' love spectrum was a completely different story. One that had a self-imposed "Phoenix Effect" on his fangirls. And it was like the bestselling page-turner: It only made sense for Sonic the Hedgehog to hold himself as the Tetra-Core's Vice-Captain, doubling up as the Student Council Vice-President.

"Shadow?" the Vice-President spoke up. He leaned further onto the table, arms crossed. "You okay?" Peridot eyes were glazed with worry. He knew something from the previous night still bothered him; Shadow's face was remarkably readable. He figured this wasn't the best time or place to talk about it, though.

Then, Shadow sharply stood from his seat. "Carry on the meeting without me. Recover all event receipts and the employment cuts, and send everything that you'll discuss directly to me. I will look them over later."

The Student Council Suite's entrance was grand. Perhaps, in an overstating manner for a high school. A Gothic façade was draped in aubergine curtains with gilt hems, adorned with Grecian goddess wisps. Wilhelmshaven Academy's dance personification, Terpsichore, graced the doors' oak panels. Though the Academy focused on more than just dance, Wilhelmshaven stood originally as a dance conservatory. With the passing decades expansion became a realized dream, and students from all artistic backgrounds would be welcomed through her doors. To honor such grace, the school's White Vixen is usually depicted reveling with her other eight sister-Muses.

Chiefly gloves wrung the worn brass. "Sonic, stay here with them. I expect a report from you after school."

"Yeah…but Shadow—?" Sonic stood from his seat, too.

But those magnificent doors were already closed. The gentle "clack" silenced him. Sonic blinked a little, before looking out a lancet window across the room. His fellow members shrugged, Rouge and Tails looking to each other and Wave huffing a careless sigh. The sunlight was hesitant in beaming through when the thought came to him: 'Shadow…are you all right?' The blue hedgehog's worry was clear as the day.

* * *

Shadow the Hedgehog was traipsing through the second floor of Primrose Corridor, when he spotted the dance studio. His eyes gleamed of nostalgia as he took his time approaching the door. His jacket hems fluttered with each step.

"_Shadow, there you are."_

_He was leaning so casually there…but his eyes, they worried for me._

There he stopped, in front of the dance studio's door. He waited there for a moment. Then, checked the sign above the door: "Atelier II" was read.

_He was only expressing it. I don't know why I swatted his hand away. But I can't blame him for looking confused. "It's fine." I couldn't look at his face. My shame didn't let me. "I'm frustrated right now. Just let me be."_

"_Frustrated? Why? What happened?"_

"_It's none of your business. Just go back to the dining hall."_

Shadow's hand slowly grasped the doorknob. He furrowed his brows, slowly twisting it, and opened the door.

Inside was a wall of open window vents. Under their sills was a handrail meant to support the dance students during stretches, movement, and practice. As Shadow walked onto the hardwood floor, he noticed another wall over his shoulder, solely of mirrors. They were not only meant to help dancer students keep track of their movements, but also to subconsciously build self-confidence and develop a strong stage presence.

'He only asks because he knows already,' came a dismal recollection.

Shadow took the time to switch out his leather boots for his ballet shoes. His coat rested with his duffel bag. He took a glimpse at one of the mirrors as he made his way over to the stereo system.

'He can read me like a book, and it always feels…unrequited.'

The soles of his ballet shoes tapped against the wooden floor. The sound system was kept safe in a paneled cupboard, while the surrounding speakers took up the room's remaining corners. Shadow approached the cabinet with a small key.

'He understands me so well…whereas I don't even understand myself.'

From within an album case, Shadow pulled out a CD. Its cover print featured a Heian beauty in a wispy pink _furisode_. Her frozen steps were like those of a child. At a kneel beside her, however, was a hulking automaton from a completely different world. Something about the image put Shadow's heart at ease.

'And being with him is my only means of expressing without regressing. Being in his presence, his smile—even if it's in pure jest or pure nerves—is all I need…'

A company of songbirds flew in to perch on a windowsill once a magical melody started to play. And placing form and execution in the forefront of his mind, Shadow began to dance.

'…To numb all the worries and travesties plaguing my mind.'

* * *

Sonic ripped through the halls of Wilhelmshaven. His feet darted all over—almost desperately—for Shadow. Brunch II was still going on, even after the Student Council meeting. There weren't a lot of people in the hallways, and Sonic was hoping those students wouldn't attach their attention to him.

"_Is everything okay?" worried one girl Sonic had passed._

Sonic curved onto the Primrose Corridor's second floor. His eyes pinned down each placard he dashed by, not finding the one he wanted yet.

"_What's he running for?" another boy wondered, following the blue blur with his eyes. "…And why didn't he join the track team?"_

Sonic sprinted down the fairly long corridor. 'Shadow…?'

He suddenly remembered their make-out session in the bathroom, and the interruption following it. The interloper was a grade level under them, but the nerve-wracked flush on his face made his callowness glaringly obvious. So did the wet stain in his slacks.

'Did that incident…piss you off?' Sonic knew Shadow was irritated by his embarrassment, just like the glare on his face declared. 'I need to know if he's all right,' Sonic thought quickly.

The dance studio placard, "Atelier II," soon came into sight. His feet shuddered into a jog, before going into a trot, and then a shuffle. A few beads of sweat peeked through his fur. Huffing, Sonic showed a victorious smirk. 'Good think I know where to look.'

Shadow was distracted for the briefest of seconds before refocusing on his routine. His arms swayed in willowy grace as his moves became more sophisticated and precise. He tiptoed throughout the routine, since it was balletic in nature. He scuttled across the floor gracefully, tapping 'round and 'round, weaving patterns into the air. His focus was incredible, and he appeared to be in another world. His eyes were glazed over, as if in a dreamy trance. The movements were so precise they rivaled a mechanical doll. Wisping like a sylph across sea brine.

As part of the choreography, he poised himself finely, on his toes, and interlocked his palms over the center of his chest. He closed his eyes.

But his mind's eyes opened to an audience. The overtly theatrical roses tossed onto the stage made nothing inside him flutter. His heart became melancholic at the sight of his teary-eyed spectators, women's tears inked by liners and mascara. Pearls and diamonds flashed like Roaring Twenties' camera bulbs, with the era's limelights not showing him any mercy. Those velvet curtains, standing ovations, and his obliged "playmates" were all never a dream deferred, but a dream deformed; a dream he had never sought for himself.

It was all a seamless, ceaseless dream he had no choice but to embrace. It was just a wonted security, groomed into him by a life-long coercion. Much to his utter disdain.

The CD in the stereo system had played that final track, which had been over, without the songs repeating, for the past few minutes when the birds figured out their little treat had gone. They had flown elsewhere.

Then came sudden real-life applause.

Shadow's eyes snapped open and shot them over to see Sonic; he was the one clapping.

"Have no idea what number _that _was…" Sonic began, smiling. "But it must've been great!"

Something about the blue hedgehog's grin made Shadow glare heavily at him. But Sonic merely chuckled. He huffed, "Hmph, your applause isn't necessary," as he looked away again. He relieved himself of the pose, stretching out his arms.

"Yeah, I know!" Sonic replied, his smile widening into a childish grin.

Soon afterwards, the sample CD was put away and the stereo cabinet was locked back. The glass panel bore the wintered rendering of a rose window. Namesake thorns coiled like a labyrinth meant for a field mouse. Its briars looked somewhat rustic, and there was even a field mouse's likeness in the glass. The key belonged to a senior dance teacher, one that shared a mutual trust with the "star pupil." Shadow had to make sure he didn't lose the tiny bronze key. So he dropped it into his coat pocket.

Sonic watched the black hedgehog switch out of his ballet shoes. He noted Shadow's black leotard, glistening and sleek. It had no sleeves, but it stretched from his neck to his toes. Those toe shoes were black as well. The leotard accentuated Shadow's body stunningly and marvelously. Unveiled was a surprisingly feminine physical stature, featuring a narrower waist and slightly more pronounced hips than most males. His arms were willowy, and his legs were lithe but powerful-looking. His abdomen and chest were chiseled out in absolute sculpture; they stood out better because of the glistening, flexible material covering them.

Sonic was leaning against the ballet bar. Casual and cool, he could see the fellow dancer's chest down pressing against the spandex. His blush intensified.

"Umm…? Hey, Shadow?" he called, looking over at him. One green iris reflected some of the afternoon's glare. A bit of concern tinged in it.

Shadow caught it out the corner of his eye. Solemn crimsons pinned it down. "What?"

"You're not mad or anything, are you?"

Shadow's brows sank. "Why are you asking?"

Sonic half-shrugged, "Well, it's just…" His eyes softened. "You kinda ditched the council meeting. You were looking frustrated already, so…?"

"You followed me?"

"Actually, no. We went through with the meeting, but after it was adjourned…I dunno, I just kind of _found _you here?" Sonic shifted his perch against the beam, to eye Shadow gathering his dance gear. The black hedgehog had paused for a moment to take in what he heard. Feeling his anticipation, Sonic bounced off. "It seems like this is the place you hide in when you wanna be alone." He shrugged again.

Patent-leather sleeves were pulled over the shoulders, draping tails whipped back, tall collar popped, and front latches snapped together. A fierceness suddenly tacked down Sonic's concerned grimace even more. "Is that your secret formula to finding me? Don't make me laugh."

"I'm serious, Shadow—not joking!"

"Then, just for the record, my so-called 'hiding places' change, Sonic."

A duffel bag waited at Shadow's feet. The needlessly steel-toed combat boots were made of nacreous leather, with red and black decals stamped on them. A golden "Approved" emblem was placed at the instep, sinister laces knotted in simple dragonflies. Stitched into their makeup were "dark" and "royalty." On one shoulder Shadow's duffel bag was resting now.

"You shouldn't have assume that I 'ran away and hid,' Sonic. That's childish, and I've far outgrown such childish antics."

Sonic watched him as he headed for the door. Another solemn glaze misted over his eyes. A halved sigh played in his snicker. "Tell me about it."

* * *

Silver the Hedgehog waited. He paced the floor not too far from Atelier II. His nervous ambers jittered, he could feel his heart palpitating badly; he didn't want to pass out, but the feeling was growing. Trying for a strong, steely demeanor, Silver stopped and gripped a fist. He took in as deep a breath as he could muster.

'They're in there, aren't they?' he wondered with incomplete certainty. 'I thought I saw the Vice-Captain go in there, but…?' His fist was trembling too much now. And even unclenched, his hands shook badly. "I'm…I'm just gonna apologize, y'know. Because I want to…I have to say it, y'know?" Silver's speech sounded empty and aimless. He was a nervous wreck, but seemingly when proximate to the upper-class idols. They had a certain appeal: It was a special brand of neutrality that relieved typical aspiring performers, where they could dream up a complete ecosystem for some planet faraway and not worry about being shamed or bashed for it. All members of the Tetrarch Chorus had that mindset. They were open in heart, creative in mind, and adaptable in body. All students, even outside the creative arts spectrum, had respect for the group's mentality. It was a breath of fresh, unabashed air.

Although that was so, Silver was figuring out the dark side to it all. Much to his annoyance, a mere stratum in the class system separated his world from the one the Tetrarch Chorus was making. It was a depressing, vexing, mortifying truth. _"If only November 14__th__ happened a year earlier, I'd be in the same league as them…!" _the hopeless thought would plague him. _"Or, at least, the same grade level."_

'Okay…okay, Silver, you got this. In the bag, y'know,' the Junior coached, pumping his fists. 'Just go on, have courage, be brave, you can do this…!' Quavering canary-yellows peeked around the corner and blinked. 'The coast is clear…go!'

Crosstrainers, enlivened by citrus-flavored decals, padded toward the studio door. He snuck along the lockers. Then, the hanging "Atelier II" was suddenly swinging back and forth. Silver's heart dropped, and his sneakers skidded. And like a deer in headlights, he froze. The door opened toward him, and a pair of airy whispers played out.

"…Stop worrying so much. You'll lose your head one day."

"_You're _the one who makes _me _worry! Silly babe…!"

Silver clung to the lockers, hoping the studio door could spare its barest edge to cover him. _Thump! thump!_ _thump!_—his heart was like a storming locomotive. But there came a quiet sigh, almost familiar. Like the one he heard the night last. Silver couldn't afford to move, since he was only a few feet away. The smallest noise could startle them out of whatever it was they were doing; he figured it would irritate them all over again. He didn't want them to be mad at him again, or at all. His happenings-upon-them would surely make them wonder. Whatever names they had for him didn't matter; they were all coincidences, and he knew truth from lie.

And he knew the soul-shuddering glares of his schoolmates would smite him from the unknown rung within the academic society. Already clinging as a Junior Classman, the white hedgehog couldn't afford to lose his place.

To fall into "the mire of nobodiness," so aptly named by the nobody himself.

But passive glances soared right over him. The two dance students weren't focused on, or aware of, the Junior's presence. In fact, they seemed more attentive on each other: Sonic's boyish teasing was light and hearty, which enlivened Shadow's notorious grimace into a complacent half-smile.

Silver blinked. His body calmed, spooning itself off the wall of lockers. Poor knees knocked, hands dropped to his sides. Nerve-wracked ambers moistened, drooling with self-pity and self-doubt.

"I'll…I'll never…!"

Sonic locked hands with Shadow. Much to the black hedgehog's disapproval, he caved by huffing an indignant retort. But Sonic chuckled, a goofy grin showing off pearly veneers.

Time slowed back into progression. The ethereality in the hallway's emptiness came to an end. Reality was setting in as students emptied out of Brunch II and pooled towards their lockers, like ascending waterfalls. Teachers released their Brunch I charges and waited for the next lot. Sonic and Shadow's coupled outlines blurred into the ocean of faces.

The poor Junior sank to his knees. Gentle huffs, terror-stricken but relieved. A shaky hand clamped onto his shirt, over his chest. His heart still thumped, a tad irregular, and slowing down. To hide his tears, his head sank down. But he couldn't wipe them away.

A student wondered why the white hedgehog was moping in front of their locker.

'They're both out of my league…and I'll _never _measure up to them.'

**_Premier Épisode _**Set…

* * *

JunAegileus777: Update Time! Only one, really: This story's rating will be temporarily changed to T. Foreshadowing details haven't gotten too laden with implicit themes, but once it does it's going right back to M. Also, the numbered "Episodes" are French pronunciations. I refuse to use actual numbers; only Roman numerals for this story. And the plot thickens... Hope you enjoyed it! There's more on the way, but there're more projects being juggled, too. Just have patience!

Another Quick Reference: Atelier Private Solo - "Theme of Love" (Máire Bhreatnach Arranged Vers.) by Nobuo Uematsu, _Final Fantasy IV_.


	4. Épisode II

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode II"_

Friday was looking rather gloomy that afternoon. Classes at Wilhelmshaven Performing Arts Academy were transitioning into the Seventh and last Period. The hallways filled with passing students. With a ten-minute passing time they would have time to catch up with each other, since the school was so big.

Students were not required to wear uniforms because it was a school of artistic self-expression and creativity. Uniforms were required to be worn, however, when attending special events, such as field trips to concerts and recitals, or when visiting local and regional arts colleges. Students were given uniforms at the start of every year and expected to keep them until the end of each semester. But appropriate casual wear was meant to be worn on average days; nothing too obscene or suggestive—just general self-expressions. As long as pants weren't sagging and skirts weren't too short, things flowed almost naturally for Wilhelmshaven students, as well as for Wilhelmshaven.

A passel of girls were crowding next to the door to a general education classroom, discussing things that had happened in between that day and the night of the Banquet. It hadn't been a mere twenty-four hours, but the girls were eager to notice the projected "Valedictorian."

They giggled to themselves, just as Silver the Hedgehog passed them by.

Silver was wearing a white sweat jacket with matching shorts, a green shirt, and a pair of beige boots. He cruised through the hallway with a gentle but cautious confidence. Immediately taking note of the flowing students, they were only eyeing him reflexively. He had the heart to smile back at them, so he shied a wave.

But no real responses came. Just more ocular diversion.

Much like in middle school: Silver always doubted making any friends in high school. And transferring from the Junior High Division of Wilhelmshaven had dealt some damage. The white hedgehog had been branded the "freak" of his new middle school, Sulston Junior High. Other kids would pick on him because of his shyness and withdrawn appearance. He tried to protect himself by dressing in whatever was "cool" at the time, but even then he was subjected to pranks and name-calling—a favorite pick to tasteless bullies, peerless pressures, and other abusive ne'er-do-wells. Trying to be cool was obviously not Silver's forte, so after graduating from Sulston he promised just to be himself and hoped for the best.

And now, the best had come. Because Wilhelmshaven Academy was his dream school, one he wished he'd never left. It was a fresh start on an old rapport. And he wanted to do his best at reviving it.

"Hey, Silver!"

Silver instantly stopped walking and looked over his shoulder to see a green hawk waving him down. He seemed to have a cool-looking grin on his face. Silver blinked, head tilting to a reason why the hawk was jogging.

"Y-Yeah, Jet?" Silver answered.

The hawk huffed; but just as quickly, he combed over his rich emerald crest, smooth and suave. Seeing him clearly faking his coolness, Silver chuckled bashfully. "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be late coming in tonight."

Silver blinked at the fellow Junior Classman again. A somewhat sulky glower pursed his lips. "Is it another Archery Club meeting?" he muttered.

Jet sighed roughly, "Yeah. But the season's dwindling down, so we won't be having many more. Don't worry, though. Just lock up and power down, like usual; no need to wait up." His gestures were grand but straightforward.

Which was one thing Silver noticed about his dorm mate. A thing that neither pleased nor annoyed him. He understood that it was just one of those unconscious motions that everyone does. Whether it's repeating certain words, gestures, facial expressions—Silver was aware of it, and had to swallow his annoyance at times. Growing up, the hedgehog teen was fascinated with how the mind works and rationalizes things. He was even more interested in what he called "choreographic psychology," or how dance movements and gesticulations were able to convey musical tones and moods. Ballerinas were the best at expressing emotion through their bodies: They used them in tandem with music to guide audiences through amazing visual-aural displays. Actors and singers could do the same, but not to the same effect Silver wanted.

Silver knew he couldn't dance to save his life, but he signed up for an elective dance class anyway, just to watch the blossoming dancers up close. His grades suffered greatly, but he didn't care as long as he could see them dance.

Especially the Senior Classman Shadow the Hedgehog.

Such an accomplished coryphée prior to high school, Silver felt undeserving of being graced by the Senior's presence everyday. It wasn't personal in the least bit, though it was still amazing for Silver to see him. The way he moved struck him most tenderly: With that bold sashay, girls from all class levels squealed upon his and his colleagues' arrival.

Quite literally—in that happening.

"Whoa, it's them…!"

"The Tetra-Core, they're here?!"

"They must be heading toward Mrs. Swordshaw's class…?"

Another dreamlike serenity swirled around Silver. A fuzziness blossomed in his chest, a familiar drumming loudened in his ears. It wasn't fast, but the hard thumps were beginning to sync with that fuzzy warmth.

'Oh God, this feeling again…it's back,' Silver's mind fretted. 'Oh no, I can't let anyone see, y'know! They'll make me into another laughingstock—of the whole school, y'know! No, not this one too! J-Just, just calm down, Silver. It's no big deal, you've seen them everyday since the beginning of the semester…!' He gulped. It was tiny and inaudible.

Beyond the crowd of heads was indeed the Tetrarch Chorus: Sonic and Shadow with Knuckles and Espio. The perfect dance ensemble, they were a bushel of teacher's apples ripened to outshine all others. Ready to graduate and take the world by storm. With Sonic's wild breakdance moves, he could concoct a EF-5 tornado without breaking too bad a sweat; Knuckles' bebop pop-and-locks occasionally squalled with Espio's gentle mixed martial arts; and Shadow's balletic pop counterbalanced all of them with edgy intensity and fickle sexiness.

They cruised in style, nonchalant and reserved. They seemed to be carrying on their own conversation. A couple girls caught on to something about a new CD album being released some days previous, and Sonic the Hedgehog wanted to know if anyone else had heard of it. A mixed response came from Knuckles the Echidna, who scratched the back of his head a bit carelessly. Espio the Chameleon, across from him, blinked to and from both crewmates' faces. Shadow the Hedgehog didn't seem all that interested, however.

Now, the thumping in Silver's chest was louder and shakier than before. His eyes stuck in a daze, he looked on in awe of them. 'They're all so perfect. Knuckles and Espio, and Sonic and Shadow…! Both couples are awesome! I-I…_totally _ship them…!' Silver's heart melted into a gooey love-struck mess.

"Uh, Silver?" Jet the Hawk was standing behind the fellow Freshman's shoulder. "You okay?" But he was on the move before he could get a reply. "Hey? Silver?"

A most antiquated clock face warned the end of Seventh Period's transition. Its brass pendulum gave the mechanism a grandchild-like vibe to the clock tower's. The clock tower bore a name of regality. Purely in jest the moniker, "Urania's Watch," was dubbed to the "grandmother" clock due to the relation between itself and the Muse of Astronomy. She was often depicted as a white _Actias luna _all around the school. Thus was Wilhelmshaven's Science Wing aptly named. On the way to it, Visual Art students borrowed cues from the mural, noted the different styles and applications, and appreciated the interspecies relationship all the sister-Muses shared. Urania's white wings were always bright and starry, like the universe she enlightened the countenances of her eight sisters with.

But Mrs. Swordshaw was a Literature teacher. Her classroom was at the very end of the hall. No time could be wasted now; the Tetra-Core was so close to it.

"Now's my chance…!"

As much of a nervous wreck he was, Silver wasn't completely functionless. Although no one predicted what he had done now: He had slinked further up the hallway and dashed back, only to bump into someone. And the impact was enough to send him reeling and crashing to the floor. Books and papers flew everywhere, and Silver's body was shuddering from the underestimated blow.

Hands scrambling for his things, Silver was cognizant enough to pray, 'He'll notice me now…won't he?'

Knocking into Shadow the Hedgehog wasn't something one would do to get his attention, however—let alone, pray for.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" the apology came sputtering repeatedly from Silver's lips. "I-I didn't see you for some odd reason! Please—_Please, _forgive me, Mr. Shadow-sir! I'll never tread this path again—I swear!" Fingers were still trying to stick to strewn papers and splitting textbooks. More papers dawdled to the floor. Silver kept begging for forgiveness from the Senior classman he'd bumped into. His mind was in such a flurry, he couldn't stop rambling on about promising him "dutiful butlery" for the rest of his life, becoming his man-servant, and such.

"Stop talking."

The simple command quelled Silver's blathering squall. Without much effort, but with his heavy, commanding air. The Senior had never tumbled to the ground. Silver turned his face up to see him.

The upperclassman's eyes: bone-chilling, heartless, icy and aloof. But something in his soul was rattled by the sight of those frostbitten eyes.

"What the heck is his deal?" a male student's biting comment dribbled into his ears. "Is he crazy? You don't bump into Shadow, of all people, on purpose!" came another, from a defensive girl in glasses. "That apology was so fake…! And making himself his pet-slave is asking for a death wish! Faker!" another girl sneered, sticking her tongue out at him. "A dumb faker, at that…" a boy next to her snickered.

His mind bleared. Something about them fascinated Silver, as well as scared him. Mental mechanisms blurred out all the negative commentary around him. Shadow was his primary focus. Nobody else's words mattered.

Knuckles, Espio, and Sonic trained their eyes on Silver. They were studying him for a moment when Shadow spoke up again to the numb, and apparently mindless, sixteen-year-old.

"Never run into me again, underclassman," Shadow threatened. "_Ever. Again._"

Sonic examined the white hedgehog more closely: 'That kid's the same one from last night. I've seen him beforehand as well, but where, when…?'

"Got it?"

All Silver could do was blink, dreamily, just as a fluid blush started in his cheeks. Only for it to be sharply noticed—by Shadow, no less. "I…I'm sorry."

Green eyes narrowed, as well. 'And why is his face…reddening like that?'

Shadow frowned heavier, flicking his eyebrows downward and clicking his tongue. "Stop your apologies, _and _your desperate pleas. They're all hollow, and I can see that. How dare you insult my intelligence with your petty insincerity! You stay out of my way, litter trash…!" Shadow warned again. With a sharp turn of his head, "Hmph!" puffed through his nostrils. It signaled his crewmates to follow. As Shadow sauntered off, both Knuckles and Espio veered around the spot. Knuckles scowled at the boy, while Espio lightly glared at him. They treaded lightly, stalking away like a couple of tigers chagrined by a rotten kill.

But Sonic had stayed behind for some odd reason.

Silver sat frozen stiff. He wasn't sure how to take Shadow's words. He was dead-on about his shallow apologizing and empty compromising. The white hedgehog didn't think he'd see through it so fast and so easily. Silver wasn't a sociopsychological mastermind, but neither was Shadow. In fact, he acted like a total opposite: A complete and utter sociopath. The Captain's aloofness clashed with the fact that he had a close-knit peer group. One to call his own and one that no one else had. Silver couldn't figure out how such a dichotomous instance could exist.

Shadow was alive a tad over a year before Silver's birth. It was a haunting reality for the sixteen-year-old. One he never grew into accepting. At that point, it was easier to accept the idol's words as law and never bump into him again.

'He may be my idol, but he can't talk to me like that, y'know! …Or can he?' Silver's hands flittered over his books and papers, trying to gather them up while Shadow wasn't looking anymore. 'Curse my birthday being a year late! He's talking so dirty to me! And…he hasn't even…?' The thought ebbed from Silver's thought processes.

But soon enough, red-and-white gym shoes stepped into his line of vision.

Silver froze again. Quivering citrines leered upward as twitching ears perked to hasty footsteps, echoing chatter, and the one voice that stood out.

"Hey. Silver."

The white hedgehog's eyes trembled at the sight of Sonic, the one missing from the Tetra-Core posse. He blinked wildly, chest thumping at a simmering scowl the upperclassman was wearing. That same obnoxious flush took over more of his face this time. There was an element resonant with Shadow's glare. Their faces, nearly matched, shared that element of danger and ominousness.

"Uh-huh…?" Silver drawled a bit stupidly.

An aquarium-themed textbook was being handed to him. "Here's your textbook." He placed it in the kid's arm; he felt Silver reflexively grab at it. But Sonic smirked, not letting go. A gasp escaped from the underclassman. His idol had knelt down, peach lips inching closer to an ear.

"W-W-What's—?" The obviousness of Silver's blush was undeniable.

And so was Sonic's dark tone: "We don't take too kindly to attention-whoring, Silver. Keep it at a minimum of _zero, _okay? Or else the end result might not be to your liking." Green eyes narrowed. "That is, of course, if you're not mindful of it." A couple of sharp pats fell on Silver's shoulder.

Citrines hesitated a glance at Sonic as the blue hedgehog gave his attention to Shadow's call. "Get over here," Shadow had said. He was waiting impatiently in the doorway of Mrs. Swordshaw's classroom.

Sonic grinned. "Coming!" His face made a complete 360 in the span of glancing back and forth from the Junior to fellow Senior. But when he looked at Silver the second time, his eyes stayed sincere emerald. "Huh, judging by that book, looks like you're heading to the Science Wing." His gym shoes squeaked as he backtracked to Shadow's vanishing silhouette. "That's quite a ways! Good luck with that, 'cause hey!" He was jogging backwards, calling back to the underclassman. "…You know you're late, right?"

And just as Sonic disappeared into the classroom, the Seventh Period bell rang. The halls were empty by the time they had. A chill filled the air. A desolation that made the tardy bell's ring sound dissonant and haunting. It rang like Urania's Watch: but seven times, to signify Seventh Period. Different tinkling came in intervals after each Period's end, and played just before the end of passing period. Altogether they composed a music box version of a little Scottish tune, its most notable rendition played by a renowned violinist. And at the end of the day, the entire measure would uplift and relax the students' spirits.

'Oh my God,' the thought crossed in Silver's mind. 'He…'

A dreaminess didn't let him look away from the spot Sonic was in before disappearing. The textbook was clutched against his chest. Its school of rainbow fish shimmered even without the cover's gloss.

A whisper, soft as drizzling rain, finished, "He knows my name."

**_Épisode II _**Set…

* * *

JunAegileus777: Sorry for the late-ish update, everyone! My Internet connection had been lagging all week, but now it's fixed!

And here we are, at Episode 2! Silver's characterization is "glaringly" obvious, no? But that darkness in Sonic's voice and eyes...I smell a hint of defensiveness in that boyfriend of yours, Shadow! But careful, Silver, 'cuz you are "fresh meat" in a sense. You shouldn't get too invasive, especially with an already established relationship. Between two _Senior classmen_, no less. Doing that is like asking for a death wish...from Death and his Scythe themselves.


	5. Épisode III

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode III"_

The Wilhelmshaven Academy Talent Show was closer than the corner it turned on. It was bound to be a school-wide event yet again that year. Preparations for it weren't going to be waited on; Shadow the Hedgehog made sure of that. With the help of his Student Council, as well as Tetrarch Chorus, the Talent Show would rev up without a hitch.

Flyers and posters were already up that Monday. They featured an aspect of each Chorus member: Sonic's legs blurred in a dizzying ascending swivel. His wink was daring and kidlike; Knuckles glared coolly while holding good balance, on one leg and showing off both thumbs down; Espio displayed good opposite balance with a single handstand and a peace sign; Shadow's back arched inward at the camera, his notorious Princely coat showing off a spiky upper back. The tails flared like a vixen's vent-blown skirts. His face was shown from a mere profiled back-shot from the camera. The sultry absence of a moan: His fangirls couldn't hold in their squeals.

All kudos went to Secretary Rouge, Treasurer Wave, Archivist Tails, and a hidden talent in the institution. Amy Rose was practicing to be a photojournalist for in-school publication. She already had a well-to-do photography crew to help her out, and her vice-authoritative air was nothing to pick at, either. Even though she was technically a Freshman, she had similar privileges to Tails. Clearly more than ten years old, Amy was mostly cheerful and always ready for the next big scoop. Rouge was the one who suggested her recruitment to the school's publication staff; the final say was left to its manager, however. Nonetheless, Amy's talents were honed and put to strong, creative use.

To be personally asked by the Tetrarch Chorus—for anything—was a fangirl's dream. Amy was sure every other girl had an unnecessary beef against her.

And she never fantasized about getting with any of them, even after her middle-school crush on Sonic evaporated upon his 8th Grade graduation. Which is probably why Shadow personally recruited her. No need for squeals and jives; she was more excited about the job itself than its subjects.

So Amy Rose skipped down Primrose Corridor, admiring her work as she bopped to her own beat. "Oh, I hope everyone liked my pictures!" She pumped her fists, a zealous fire in her eyes. "At this rate, I'll become a proxy-Manager to Wilhelmshaven's Print Press for sure!"

Defensive hands fanned away her flames. "Temper down, Little Rosy."

Amy knew whose voice it was. Due to her somewhat smoky appearances, Amy could never predict when Secretary Rouge would pop up on her. Startled, Amy's eyes met the comely teenager's ample bosom. Her white collared blouse couldn't reveal any cleavage, on account of the gold necktie hiding it. Amy blinked, then blankly looked up to see sparkling-gold lips. They made a smirk; it was mischievous and witchlike, like always.

An annoyed vein pulsed at the Freshman's temple. "Must you always spring up on me?" came the simmering staccato.

Nothing came in return, except for a snicker.

"What's so funny, Miss Secretary—?"

"Ooh! What a pretty camera. Is it a Nikon?" Smooth palms grappled the photography tool and caressed it. Around the lens, along the shutter, from the peep hole to the touch screen.

"Yes, and his name's Piko!" the younger girl tagged on, snatching it back. "So stop…_touching _him like that! He doesn't like it!"

"Oh? Well, isn't he just the straight man?" Rouge remarked in a half-sensual, half-snide manner. Inspecting her fresh nails, she tapered into a different subject. "Speaking of 'straight men,' Shadow wants you."

Every girl within earshot homed in on their conversation. Leery gazes threatened to penetrate the two-person bubble.

Which irked both Rouge and Amy. But Amy tried to ignore them. "He does? What does he need with me?" came her honest curiosity.

"He didn't say. But you _are _being summoned, my dear." Rouge swaggered away. Before she got too far, she added, "And that man sure does _not _like to wait."

More sorceress snickers. Amy's temple vein throbbed slower. Her eyes leered around the hordes of schoolgirls inching away: Some were gold-ribboned Freshmen like herself, and they had no reason to nail her with so heavy a death glare. A denser flock of uppity Juniors sashayed past her—whispering rumors, she'd bet. Some guys even looked around and back at her, wondering if she'd somehow become a plague. And it irked the pink hedgehog.

Oxford-anchored argyle stamped down the hall. Puffs of steam whistled from her ears at more jealous fangirls to move aside. Or run away. Whichever worked better.

* * *

Stage lights were swiveling. Microphone tests were sounding off. And the auditorium's grand arena became subjected to rapid prop striking. Black-clad stagehands were scurrying all over the place, armed with chairs, music stands, striking tape of varied colors. Others worked offstage as lighting and sound technicians. The four aisles had at least one runner bolting up and down each of them, who observed seat numbers and reserved spots. Higher-ups took command of most of the stage crew.

The unique stage was one-of-a-kind in that particular setting: It had features that were normally found on movie sets. Places backstage allowed multiple uses, including trap doors, "deus ex machina," and taller props such as trees or balconies. Levers, latches, and pulleys were being inspected. They were all green and good to go, according to one stage technician.

Knuckles was helping out as well. He was reading over the event's schedule, which coursed over that whole week. He looked it over mainly for spelling or grammar errors, or any misinformation in the itinerary. So far, it all looked accurate. He was going about it by memory, and it read spot-on.

"Looks a'ight, my dude," he nodded as he passed it back to an accompanied tech. "I'm sure Shadow's looked at it, too. Here"—He was handing him a CD—"let's give this one a whirl."

Knuckles' sounds were a pristine joy that tied himself and his crewmates together as a Chorus. He made sure they didn't dance to just _any _song that was "popular" or a "weekend hit." There were underrated songs out there, too. And he wanted to give them some love. Knowing most of the songs he encountered were fine on their own, he also composed remixed versions. Those could never be copyrighted, of course, and—unless somebody had a death wish—he never lent those "babies" out. Hopefully, one could feature in the Farewell Show. It would be its first time, and most likely its last.

With that, Knuckles helped monitor the audio. It had to be pitch-perfect. A retrocedent rhythmic masterpiece.

Shadow and Sonic could hear the playback from where they were. But somehow the curious foot patters behind them were missed. Poor Amy Rose had arrived at a most awkward moment: Her little cheeks could only beam a timid flush as she inadvertently caught the Senior Classmen making out behind the curtain. Her squeaks were tiny, like a mouse, and Knuckles seemed to catch it before the love brace did. She crept as quietly as she could up the stairs as Knuckles whipped the curtain back.

"Hey, y'all better cut that mess out, ya hear?!" The echidna's reprimands was peppery but brutally conscientious. He flicked his brows downward at Sonic's back straightening. A click of his tongue preceded his leave-taking. "Y'all ain't got time for that, I swear…!"

A sweat drop dribbled down the back of Sonic's head. "Gee. Thank!"

"Ahem."

Shadow had cleared his throat, straightening his tie, while approaching Amy. The girl gawked at the Senior's coolness; she, and Sonic for that matter, were on the same page of "What the actual what"-ery. "Miss Amy? You've arrived sooner than expected. Excellent. There is a task I need you to complete for me."

Amy blinked furiously. "Um, erhm, erhm, hah…? Okay…what do you need me to do?"

Sonic, however, wasn't anywhere near as calm and collected as his high school sweetheart. 'Boyfriend? …How you do?! Agghh!' he fretted with twitching fingers. 'So calm, cool, and collected, like it never even happened! It took him less than five seconds, g'damn!' Disbelief framed his face.

"Lights, camera, action!"

A green crocodile was bobbing to his own tune while commandeering the stagehands' directions when Shadow, Sonic, and Amy made their way to center stage. Shadow examined an item list while Amy wondered what the total area size of the auditorium was. Sonic stuffed his hands into his pockets, an ear tugging at a junior worker almost tripping over himself. He shied a thumbs up at him, after whom recovered from his embarrassment.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Wilhelmshaven Academy's auditorium: Thalia's Playground!" that same green crocodile announced, quite professionally, into a microphone.

He sported hilariously stereotypical director's fashion: Black beret, prep-style duster, and his very own clapperboard that was resting in his director's chair. In bold adventurous letters, "VECTOR" graced its canvas back. A small bee clapped vivaciously at the crocodile's well-trained enthusiasm. The boy aspired to be an announcer or entertainer of some kind, himself. He loved taking cues from his "Boss." His love for the stage was strong enough to abide by his idol's instruction, even if his requests were mundane and troublesome. "Wow! You rock, Mr. Boss Man!" the boy cheered.

Sonic only admired the bizarre directorial tag team from afar. He let out a chuckle.

"Miss Rose," Shadow called, "I need you to take some time-lapse shots. Your subject is the stage. The theater technicians are preparing to run through the event's itinerary. It will be a complete tech rehearsal, so make sure you pay close attention to what you see and hear." He was multitasking as he explained. Amy knew there wouldn't be time to stop, so she had to stay sharp. Each phase would take only a minute, from striking to presentation. The tech students would be briefly evaluated before moving on to the next setup. There was a total of eight phases, and Shadow made sure to assign her four shots per phase. Meaning Amy only had four minutes total to get thirty-two good shots. She nodded as the ground rules were laying out. "The main curtains will remain open. Your photographs will serve as display references to the tech students. They will be highly valued; I give you my solemn word." His gentlemanly bend was reminiscent to a son of an aristocrat. "I thank you in advance, Miss Rose."

But the freshman girl waved it off, shy and sweet as can be. "Oh, that's not necessary! I'm glad I can help! Your bowing is making me all red and stuffs, though! Now you're being _too _cutesy, Mr. President!" Her laugh sounded embarrassed.

Shadow huffed. His attention was pulled by the pair of stage techs. He proceeded to converse with them, with Amy looking on from afar. She blinked a little.

"Leave it to Shadow to let you know what he wants."

Amy faced Sonic's crossed arms and playful half-smile.

"His perfectionist tendencies make you show results. And they'd better be the results he wants; otherwise, he'll toss you into the proverbial scrapheap." He winked at her. "No worries, though. He finds you to be uber-helpful! He actually admires your work, especially those posters you did for us…!" His eyebrows were wiggling, his smile slyly toothy.

Amy's girlish flush returned, accompanied by just-as-puckered lips. "D'oh, stoppit, stoppit—_stop!_" she clucked in staccato.

"Did somebody say…'cutesy'?!"

Amy and Sonic found themselves in pitch blackness. The whole theater had gone dark, and different voices complained, squeaked, and cursed.

"What the hell?" Knuckles' voiced, unable to spot anyone. "Who killed the lights?!"

"Reestablish power to the main house, stat!" Shadow's command couldn't be missed.

"On your marks…!"

That voice was undoubtedly Vector's, but no one was sure where it was coming from. It bounced off metal and wood with expert precision.

"Stage set…!"

But more sounds were found in between. Like scrunching chair legs, clumsy feet, and a startled "Hey!" from the President.

"Shadow?!" Sonic panicked, holding close to Amy.

"It's time to…Rely on Your Wits! Are you ready, Mr. Pres?!"

The leading row of spotlights allowed a sole beam to fall upon Shadow. The black hedgehog did not wear an amused face. His seat upon the chair was cumbersome, thumpy, like the stagehand couldn't find where they'd placed the prop. The light's suddenness blinded him for a moment. But, overall, the Senior Dance student was nowhere near enthralled.

He clicked his tongue. Annoyance made itself known. "Like hell I am, Director." The grumble came through gritted teeth. His irritation was simmering out of its boil.

"Then, Baby, won'tcha please~?!"

His mobster accent made the lilting tune disjointed, and somehow lackadaisical. Although, Director Vector couldn't help disgusting the black hedgehog: Out of the surrounding blackness, a palm caressed over his wrist and moved into a romantic lift. The reptilian theater teacher planted a suitor's kiss upon Shadow's hand. Every hair and quill on him rose, the President's shiver wasn't hidden too well; Vector had successfully trapped him in an improvisatorial duet. Sickening hilarity and quirky embarrassment were bound to ensue.

Much to Shadow's doubtless vexation. But he rolled with it, hiding his face behind elegant fingers and grumbling his complaints. He had no choice but to anticipate the worst of the teacher's antics, uttering "Oh Good Lord," "Please stop," "Oh my God," and "Can you not?" interchangeably.

"I can promise you the world~!

"I can give you diamonds and pearls—

"Of ev'ry va-ri-e-ty~!

"Heck, I'll buy you—

"Anything that sparkle-sparkle gleams~!

"Like the sunlight in your eyes…!"

His accent grated against Shadow's eardrums. The wiggling eyebrows were also disconcerting. Amy gaped at the spectacle, interrobang bubbles popping from her reddening ears. She blinked wildly, cheeks reddening even more. Something made her swap eyes with Sonic. Somehow, they had been poised into a tango by those ninja-like backstage workers. Her brain fizzled out, and Sonic's tears were streaming for some reason.

But his boyfriend's eyebrow twitched. Repulsed, he simply begged, "No, Director…please no."

"I'll devote my time,

"No slower than a quarter-dime!"

A shrug of disbelief. "What?!" his victim hissed. "What the hell is a quarter-dime?!"

"My heart is yours divine,

"But! …Is your heart as so as mine?"

Another suitor's kiss preceded another vexed huff: "Sweet Mother, grant me mercy…!"

"Smiles galore!

"I'll make ya soar—

"Higher than any jet-setter's liner!"

Broadway references were flecked into the robust melody. Jazz hands, spirit fingers, and solo tap dance included. Shadow's fingers slipped over his face. His embarrassment was very evident. And the vein at his temple was ready to pop, spurt out, whip blood-tendrils around Vector's neck and wring it.

Amy was in Knuckles' arms, now. The stagehands were somehow, someway moving people (that they could lift) around to different places on the stage. Purposely leaving them in strange and compromising positions. She blinked up at him, but he snorted in return. Nothing else happened; she just hung there, in his arms.

Sonic, on the other hand, found himself face-to-face with a female crew member. Sneaky in the face, she obliged in returning his "kiss" with her own. "Gyahh! No! What the huh?!" Sonic almost reflexively spun her into a backward pirouette. She wailed from her "failed" attempt. And crashed into a pair of her crewmates.

The behind-the-scene tumble didn't distract Vector, however.

"Baby! Baby, won'tcha please?!"

Vector latched Shadow's forearm into an intimate, intimidating clasp. Gingers sparkled, much like a star-struck movie bachelor smitten by a leading lady's foxy gaze. But Shadow's gaze wasn't foxy. It was stony, chilled by the slightly older man's boldness. Too convincing, if anyone asked him. Shadow silently prayed for the Red Man's Special Powers as he could feel the Director's wily fingers smoothing up and down his arm. 'If he calls me "Baby" _one more time, _I am going to…!'

"Let me…smother you with my—

"Honeymoon…passion."

"What the—?!" Then another kiss was planted atop his hand. And it sent Shadow's mind into an agitated tizzy. 'If he kisses my hand _one more time_…!'

"Let me die in shame?

"Pass through…chocolate rain?"

Shadow hid his face again. Cheeks had flushed. 'Chocolate…rain?!' he hissed again.

"And promise you…a lacquer tomb—most handsome!

"…As I've sired rue."

Aggravation sighed, "And suddenly, he's singing about death…!" His vein throbbed. "Director. Just stop. Please…!"

"Dearest Baby! Won'tcha please~?!

"I'll give the—best eu-lo-gy!

"Even plant a—cher-ry tree!

"By your headstone, strewn with…widowed tears."

Vector was too close to Shadow's face. It was bad enough to be serenaded to, but the naturally long crocodile schnoz was making it all the more uncomfortable. Puckered lips moved in closer. Shadow dreaded every second of it. Turning his head with every centimeter that those lips gained, the disgust on his face wrung. One hand was still taut in the faux lover's brace. But split-second genius managed to break the emergency glass on a light bulb.

His other hand stopped Vector's lips in their tracks. The croc's big ginger eyes blinked a little. The Senior Classman somehow retained his calmness.

"Wait, no, stop, cease and desist. What is this, a joke? Why would you want to propose to a minor—a _male _one, at that? Don't you have a girlfriend or something? Go and propose to her instead. You have no shot at me. Take a hike. You're done."

Until the comment threw every student's brain into a whirlwind of hilarity. "Aw damn! What it do?!" Knuckles guffawed, slapping his knee.

"Whoa! What?!" came from another pair of laughing stagehands.

"Total burnage!" another hooted amongst other roaring catcalls and whistles.

"Ooh! Good comeback! Nice recovery, Babe!" Sonic threw him a thumbs up, and his raucous laughter soon joined the rest. "_So _smooth!"

Shadow smirked a tiny, bitter, victorious smirk. He snatched his arm out of the crocodile's limp grip. He snorted, haughtily straightened out of the seat, turned on a heel, and curtly sashayed off the stage. All in the midst of everyone's laughter. Even the theater technicians, Charmy, and Amy were laughing at the Director.

"Nice try, Boss!" Charmy was able to get out in between giggles. "Better luck _no _time!"

Poor Vector tried. Shadow did have a point, and nailed it. Looked like the wits he relied on didn't serve him all that well. Globs of natural tears poured from his embarrassed gingers.

* * *

Deep down on Wilhelmshaven's lowermost floor, a well-made sign was hanging on a doorknob. It looked like red satin hemmed with delicate purple braiding. Golden sparkling font graced the front on it: "Embroidery in Progress!"

Silver flipped it to see the back's silvery font: "Back in a Stitch!". Something about it made him smile. It was nearing the end of the day already; the final bell would be ringing any minute. Keeping the cute smile, he waltzed in like a quiet-time mouse.

He slipped through the door. And was greeted by a wall of fabric. Silver had always preferred Wilhelmshaven's fabric stock over others—from "mediocre" places akin to Hobby Lobby. Silver wanted nothing but the real deal for a good deal (in other words, free), and he refused to settle for less. Genuine fabrics were extremely hard to come by, especially in a school setting. When he was at home, he always have to settle for what he could find in his mother's quilting baskets. Usually scraps, sadly. But whatever fit, he was able to stitch. And in retrospect, his primordial creations were very lacking—and downright hideous, so he says himself. Sewing was an outlet he discovered once his mother started hoarding colored linens. Quite the quilter herself, she would find all kinds of cloth. But linen was a prime material, a favorite even though she could never truly use it.

Gabardine was a newly discovered favorite of Silver's, actually. It was an "elegantly modern" material, in his opinion. True elegance was defined as pure silk or rich velvet. Two of his higher favorites.

But all the rainbow spools and spindles, the enriched reels, and bobbin bouquets awed Silver. He'd only been able to glimpse inside the Sewing Room since his Freshman year. But now he could actually go inside because his Embroidery class permitted him. He peered around: The oak cabinets housed treasured pieces from past students. Some went as far back as the 1910s. There was even a lightly restored spinning wheel.

"Wow! An honest-to-goodness sewing sanctuary…!" the white hedgehog awed. But his ears perked up at the slide of a whipstitch.

There was someone at a much more modern sewing machine. But the Janome model wasn't being used. Its treadle wasn't being pushed. In fact, its motor wasn't even running. Curiously, Silver slid closer to the person sitting at the machine.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm disturbing you…aren't I?" Silver was bowing his head repeatedly.

But Espio the Chameleon blinked a little. Then shook his head, and went back to work.

Instantly, Silver spotted the handcraft. He was enamored by the chameleon's dexterity: He wasn't sure what the project was, but it didn't look little. The silver needle whipped perfectly in and out of the textile. Looked like a coat exiting its construction stage. It was black with fluffy fringes, stippling antique brads, slinging belts, and lots of buckles. The hulking zipper that was lying on the floor seemed to be part of it, too. But it didn't look like Espio was sewing on the outside.

"D-Did…Did you make that?!" the Junior staggered.

It came as a cross between disbelief and satisfaction to Espio. He blinked back up at the hedgehog. The solemn nod had a cuteness hidden in it, one that Silver could easily identify with.

"I'm sorry, I'm being so loud—y'know? You l-look busy, so I j-just gonna leave you alone now…okay?"

The purple chameleon nodded his gentle return. He couldn't help making a questioning face as the hedgehog stared, wide-eyed, as he crept backward to the exit. But something bumped him on the rear. The door had opened again, and a tiny yelp escaped the white hedgehog.

"Sorry!" A short, golden-coated fox tripped in. "Espio! I got it! The material you asked for—It _just _came in!" In his arms was a heap of blue denim. It looked awfully heavy for such a small boy to carry, let alone run with.

Silver picked up a sliver that had fallen. A tiny block, an insignificant amount, he surmised. His eyes went back to the newly arriving Student Council Archivist. After placing them in a crate, Tails brought it over and placed it at Espio's feet. The small boy was throwing Talent Show-related ideas at the upperclassman, and the older chameleon clapped and nodded happily at the barrage of enthusiasm. Something in Silver turned green, as well as blue: Shameful envy. Shameful, because he didn't seize the opportunity—perhaps the only one—to chat with the Senior about their likeminded crafts. And envy, because a mere Freshman had gotten it before he did. The twin tails furling 'round and 'round denoted the fox's excitement. And Espio was smiling so cutely.

Silver figured he'd pocket the sliver of denim while Espio became distracted by his Smartphone. He crept closer to the exit. And like a whip, he cracked through the door. The door close wasn't heard in the slightest. Actually, it was left slightly ajar.

Silver dashed down the hallway. He didn't want to pout just yet.

"Man, that was crazy," came an awfully familiar baritone from ahead. "He really did that, too! That was priceless!" Knuckles threw a couple of play-punches. "Heh! Rely on _those _wits, Director!"

**WA-THUMP!**

"Whoa-ho!" Knuckles felt a sudden jarring sensation. He didn't lose too much balance, and was able to catch Silver nearly spilling to the floor. Both recovered, but Silver kept going. Running, as if he thought Knuckles would chase him. Confused, the echidna bellowed, "Well, 'scuse you too, punk!" Glowering at the departing outline, a thought came to him: 'That's the same kid that bumped into Shadow the other day…! What the hell—is he crazy or some shit?'

But he brushed it off, and checked his phone: "I'm here in the Sewing Room, working on our costumes. And waiting on you~! =3" The playful tilde, and the emoticon that followed, made Knuckles stifle a snicker. "This dude…!" he sighed roughly, stuffed his hands into his pockets.

**_Épisode III _**Set…

* * *

JunAegileus777: Double-Update Time! Double, because I've posted for another story, as well.

Director Vector is quite the...romantic, isn't he? Shadow does have a point, though... Also, the pseudo-Broadway performance was not inspired by any given song. Just something I wrote out off the dome one morning. It sounds hilarious (to me) when I sing it. I wish I could for you guys, though. Just think Disney's Cinderella's garden scene in Vector's 1950s mobster accent. That's probably the closest comparison I can make.

A comedic chapter, I'd say. Something to lift the spirits a little... Hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Silver's Caesura I

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Silver's Caesura I"_

_"I don't understand. What is it about me they don't like? I can't fathom it for the life of me. I'm nice, sweet, giving, caring…! I'm a good person! I can be a good friend! Just…give me a chance."_

Those final stitches were made. Silver never felt so complete—and empty—in his entire life. "Nobody has noticed me up till now. I've always been a nobody." This finished project had meant the world to him. "Just another body in the hallway, another subject to taunts, wedgies, and all kinds of slurs. How can I respect everyone else if none respect me?"

He took the little project from its special place: on his writing desk, next to the head of his bed. His hands couldn't let it go. They toyed with the denim, the same sliver he'd absconded with; he was talking to himself as he did this.

"Well, they're all just like me: People. They have their own lives, _their _own issues and problems. And what's beautiful about it is they're all different. Like me. Some people can tolerate others better than the next person, and some just can't. Nobody's the same. It's just something I've grown to notice and accept. But…"

Such a precise replica of Sonic the Hedgehog he'd made. Making the little denim jacket was probably his favorite part.

"…That doesn't necessarily mean I like it, though."

He toyed with both his little projects. Their stuffed bodies bobbed to and fro as the white hedgehog talked. "I'd like to be popular. I think I'd love it! I'm smart, funny, charming, a bit on the shy side, but still well-rounded. If the girls here would just stop fantasizing about…_him…_then maybe I'd have a chance to shine!" He squeezed the right hand's plush. "Except competition is nonexistent. He's _the _prime elite of this institution—I can't compete with that! There's no way, not in a million years." His grip loosened. "But that's what I've said to myself before. About either of those two noticing me. Acknowledging me as a peer, even if I am only a year under them." Glassy ambers leered down at the tiny denim jacket's back. Made with loving, faithful hands, "Sonic" was embossed in silver, the lowercase "I" dotted with a star-shaped rhinestone. The font shimmered, bold and brash, just like the plush's namesake. Silver showed a shy smirk. "The Tetrarch Chorus is a force to be reckoned with…" The other toy was a stunning replica of Shadow the Hedgehog. From head to boot, even the white chest and the eyes' red upper fold. Everything was exact. Contrary to the blue one's teasing smirk, the black-and-red doll wore a signature grimace—albeit it was more cute than menacing. "Much like…these two."

Silver knew he could best convey his feelings when he spoke of them in that manner. In a soliloquy of sorts. Answering his own questions in the absence of other people. Those possibly prying, judgmental eyes he could feel peeling away his flesh like a ripe banana.

But what he really wanted to peel was something miles out of his reach, even though he'd see them change everyday.

_ "Maybe it's because I'm younger? They think I like them because I'm younger! Well, I don't want to be lumped in with the fangirl posse! I'm not a mindless wannabe-groupie that bases my feelings on looks or popularity!"_

Those precious dolls awaited in his lap.

_"I'm not like them! I'm _nothing _like them! All they want to be is arm candy! I just…! I want…?"_

Their denim jacket and leather coat were well-made replicas, as well. Silver was determined to get the real things the first time. There was never a need for reference pictures or swatches; he knew what he wanted and how he was going to get it. He lifted them into his hands again. And almost unthinkingly, pressed their faces together.

An empty pause: It was pregnant with absentminded anticipation, expectation. Something made Silver's heart drop at the sight of the two "kissing" dolls. Never would he caress such a cheeky peach nor a Pink Lady's blush.

Nothing beyond that real denim ensemble. Nor past those patent-leather straps. Neither to swish through Sonic's ocean-blue waves of fur. Nor to snuggle against the heart beneath Shadow's vanilla down.

"They're my greatest life's work, these dolls of mine."

Their faces pulled away. Slowly, tenderly. Just like the night of the Banquet. Even if it was accidental.

"I made them, with my own two hands. Without my mom's help, too."

That distant "something" was making Silver want to cry. The same "something" that made him feel rainbows of jealousy, wistfulness, and deprivation.

"I was gonna be so proud of myself when I made these…and they're both finished, now. They're here…with me now, y'know?"

And now, that "something" was twisting his smile, crooking it upward, and his eyes quivered, not of fear, dread, or delight. But of all three: His rainbows became too colorful, over those first years of attending Wilhelmshaven Academy. Undeservingly at times, his feelings for Tetrarch Chorus's Co-Captains grew and grew. They were also twining and transmogrifying, unfortunately.

Chitters. Nearly noiseless. They were heard by no one. His roommate had gone to his Archery meeting, and had yet to come back. The analog clock on his desk read like Urania's Watch: 5:35. Vesper was creeping. September would be ending soon, and daylight would have to adhere to the change sooner or later.

"Stay with _me…_will you?"

The boy's state of mind regressed. Citrines stricken with unbelievable possessiveness, he uttered, "Don't kiss him, Sonic…don't kiss him back, Shadow…!" But his hands moved on their own, and the faces were pressed back into the overly familiar gesture. Simulating the kiss he wished he'd never seen that night.

The kiss he never wanted to see again. Or, so he thought.

"No…! No, stop!" he begged, voice whispery and desperate. "You shouldn't be doing this! It's against school rules—you'll get in trouble!"

_"I want to be kissed instead."_

A sheep's gasp.

They had stopped in his hands, but not in his mind. And lovely warped feelings warmed his cheeks, his chest, and the tips of his now standing ears. His heart started to pound, and he wasn't sure why.

_"…By _them._"_

His mind could hear their sighs, Sonic's interrupted and Shadow's lulled passion. That night of the Banquet was sure to be a curse and a blessing on the Junior Classman. The scene played and replayed, stopped and rewound. Lovely warped feelings spun faster, the more his mind looked. Tongues tangoed, he could see; a French kiss that couldn't be any more perfect. Slathering serpents parted from a passionate slugfest. Eyes leered toward the boy's mental eye. Before they could connect with it, Silver's hand was on his heart.

The dolls were cradled in his other hand, in his lap. Evening light gilded the embossed "Sonic" emblem. Its tiny rhinestone sparkled. The hand brought them up to his chest, his own chest down. Mental conversations swirled in the background of his slippage.

"Please don't make me choose."

Pounding cannonades roared to a bradycardic, arrhythmic metronome. There was something manic about the Junior's alluring gaze. Saliva dribbled as a tiny rivulet, alongside his hopeless tears. His hand clambered over his cheek. "I don't want to choose…!" Ambers captured evening's light, but the gleams only brightened them, like a witch's faithful familiar. "Because I want you both."

Slowly but surely did the boy's jealousy, wistfulness, and deprivation knot messily and coil onto a blackened spindle. Of utter depravity.

_Silver's First Caesura _Set…

* * *

JunAegileus777: Hello there. Again. Not exactly a chapter, this chapter-model is kind of a character BG on Silver. Here, he's had a moment to himself. These "Caesurae," as they'll be called, won't involve just Silver, though. You'll see in upcoming chpts. This just happens to be his first one. The plot darkens...

On a side note, I'm going to be busy this wknd, so I'm submitting this chpt now while it's early. So R&R - and enjoy, mostly!


	7. Épisode IV

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode IV"_

Wednesday seemed to roll by slowly to the Academy students that were preparing for lunchtime. Some were even famished, not used to the lunch schedule yet. Lunch was divvied up into two periods, since there were so many students. The halves were designated "Brunch I" and "Brunch II", and it really was brunch because it occurred at eleven o'clock in the morning.

School hours started at eight o'clock in the morning. Some students had their reasons for arriving early, though: Maybe to cram for a quiz recital? Or just relax in the library before the day officially started? Regardless, Wilhelmshaven's doors were open for early risers.

All the Student Council members had met up to finalize the arrangements for the upcoming Talent Show. The festivities were preset to be a showcase, where selected Senior-Class Arts students would perform before an audience. Some notable presences would be college-level presidents, deans, private and public endorsement reps—even a warden from a university overseas. It all sounded so exciting, so Shadow had to stress the importance of the event's fluidity.

It was also the Tetrarch Chorus's final hoorah in the swing of everything. Wishy-washy and reluctant, Tails had prepped up his announcements for the morning and broadcasted the news over the school's PA system. Younger fans of the Chorus were shocked, and came to realize how true it was. The Seniors only had the rest of the year until graduation, and the Freshmen were enamored by them already. Forlorn sighs and crocodile tears gushed everywhere in a Freshman-Class Literature room. The teacher only waved them down, with comically beading sweat, before resuming her lesson.

As of now, Brunch I students of all grades were in the dining hall: The ceilings were so high and so elegant, and the flooring was pure marble. Even in its normal setup, the school still looked and felt expensive. Standing at a staggering fifty million dollars for all its luxuries, it was the prized gem of the city, and it would have been a real disaster if something were to happen to it. Vandalism was strictly prohibited for that reason alone. And the city police would be involved faster than anyone's blink.

Silver marveled everything around him, from the Neo-Gothic columns to the frosted glass rose windows. Everything seemed to be entrancing him, though it was no different from the night of the Honors Banquet. The glass looked brighter, the floors shinier, and the lunch tables' wood speckled only from cleanliness. "The custodians must earn a fortune to keep this school clean," he couldn't help sighing. "This place is amazing!"

"Meh. I've seen better."

Silver darted his sights at such a near-blasphemous comment, only to see Jet with a couple of other classmates. He flushed, barking, "What are you, crazy?! There're no other schools in this _State _as meticulous as this one!"

"Dude, chill," Jet chittered in his defense, "I was just yanking your chain." He waved Silver over. He and his classmates teased him for bubbling his cheek.

As Brunch I went by, Jet and his classmates rattled off about the fast-approaching Talent Show. The two fellows, an armadillo and a flying squirrel, seemed so psyched about seeing the event's power players perform: the Tetrarch Chorus. Jet was kind of jealous, but held a deep respect for the Seniors. He was mostly upset by the fact that their popularity skyrocketed by the end of their second year of high school, while he had just become a Third-Year student himself.

The golden-yellow flying squirrel, named Ray, wasn't too bothered by it. He figured he'd have all the time in the world to become a famous filmmaker. "Maybe once they're even bigger and more famous, I can make a documentary about them!" His interjection brimmed with hope, but the red armadillo, Mighty, had different aspirations. "I'm not into the Arts like that, but who knows—somewhere further down the line, they could be coming to me to give them medicine, or copyright some work of theirs…or even handle their money," he tagged on, with an easy snicker. He darted an eye over his shoulder. "Sound about right, Jet?"

"Yeah, totally, totally, _totally _spot-on!" Jet's hands were held in an enthusiastic clench. His eyes sparkled as glittery dollar signs, bedazzled by the realization that his friend had the potential to handle rich famous people's money. He grinned greedily.

A sweat drop rolled down Mighty and Ray's cheekbones. "Yep. Thought so…" the armadillo confirmed, purely embarrassed.

And so was Silver. Making a similar face, his 'Oh, roomie…' sounded so hopeless. And his chuckle sure sounded cute, too.

Suddenly, a sharp skid. It was out of place, but it grabbed the attention of everyone nearby. Silver threw his sights toward the source. Jet, Mighty, and Ray were making unpleasant faces.

A passel of rough-looking students were teasing someone. A fellow green avian, like Jet. Three out of the passel were toying with the Freshman's neckerchief, mockingly patting his shoulder with heavy hands, and picking off entrées from his plate. The others hung back; it was common pack mentality, to ward off potential interlopers.

"Those guys again…?" Mighty couldn't help muttering.

"I can't believe they're picking on a handicapped student," a girl expressed her fear and concern for the Freshman. Sympathy coursed along her eyelids as she looked on at the fourth member putting the wheelchair's brakes in place.

But absolute fear surged through Silver's blood and upcoming tears. "They're not…gonna hurt him, are they?!"

"Hey, Beanie," one of the bullies cooed, purely jesting. "Remember when we asked you to have our money by—say, uh, _now?_" He grappled the boy's neckerchief and pulled his face closer to his own. "Looks like you've gone and spent it. Good thing it's crap we actually _like _to eat. As for you…!" He hissed at him, "Make like London Bridge!"

The Freshman felt a sharp tilt, and before he could defend himself he was on the floor. The abandoned entrées spilled under him, and he ended up landing in them. Tomato sauce caked his cheek, catching a scared, hurt teardrop.

The four taller students looked roguish, too tough for little Bean. They rocked their uniform jackets in a most desecrating way, and held virtually no respect to the younger student. The apparent leader snickered, cruel and uncaring. The fourth member tossed down the chair handles, thus tossing down the chair. The metal clattered against the marble, and its rattle shook up everybody's nerves.

Bean the Duck was a paraplegic. There was no way for him to help himself. His wheelchair was on the ground, his food caked onto his stomach and face. He lied there, waiting for the other students to laugh at him. More tears mixed into the fallen spaghetti sauce.

Until they were dabbed away by a white handkerchief.

"There there, Bean. It's okay now. Looks like not even Wilhelmshaven is immune to bullies…?"

The four culprits were nabbed as soon as their meanness streak was over: From afar, Shadow had notified Campus Security of what was taking place—even instructing them to "proceed with caution." Knuckles and Espio cornered the rogue passel, cracking knuckles and falling into a defensive fighting stance, respectively. "Where you think y'all going? Punk-ass gangbangers…!" Soon after, a squadron of security officers apprehended the troublemakers.

But it was Sonic's handkerchief that comforted Bean the most. The blue hedgehog had put on a hopeless smirk. "Sad, right?"

The entire cafeteria was in awe. Such promptness was another reason why Wilhelmshaven was one of the safest school in the State. A couple girls across from Jet's table clapped to themselves. But Mighty and Ray picked up on it. And after a confirming nod, they got up and applauded. Silver gasped a little, seeing Jet, and those two girls, and most of the room follow suit. Sonic wasn't expecting such a reception; Knuckles and Espio were sure the ne'er-do-wells didn't like it. Shadow was thanked by a guardswoman, who tilted her cap coolly to him. It was returned with a mimicked nod. Campus Security took their leave, and Shadow regrouped with Knuckles and Espio. From the corner of his eye, he could see Silver, that pesky Junior.

Said Junior was entranced by the scene unfolding not too far off: A tiny blush had splashed onto his muzzle when he saw Sonic assisting Bean, even lifting him into both arms. Something along the lines of "Hang on tight" preceded his retrieving the fallen chair. Something else had gotten to the white hedgehog when Shadow, Espio, and Knuckles entered the scene, though.

"That was a pretty nasty prank they pulled," Sonic said under the lulling applause. "And it was _completely _uncalled for. So, you probably feel like crap now, huh?"

Something about Sonic's honesty relieved Bean. As Knuckles fixed up his wheelchair, Sonic placed Bean carefully back into it. The duck's extremely dark-gray eyes peered up at each Tetra-Core member's face. He nodded to Sonic, somewhat ashamed by their involvement. Sonic knelt down, wiped up some of the mess those bullies made, and let Bean continue to wipe himself off. "Now then. Are you okay, otherwise?"

The green bird gave him an awkward smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm just…a little shaken up. That's all."

"Good, that's good. Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable at our table, now, would we?" He winked.

Every girl within earshot gasped; every guy cast disbelieved looks. Even Jet was stunned by the declaration. "What?! They're inviting Bean to sit with them?!" a girl snipped. "But that's _their _spot! The most exclusive table in the cafeteria!" another guy seemed particularly shocked by it. Everyone watched as Sonic took up Bean's chair handles and proceed to wheel him toward the marble stage. "Oh my gosh, this is so amazing! So brave, and cool!" the same girl cheered. "Way to hold it together, Bean!" a different student cheered from across the scene. He pumped his fist into the air. "You rock, Tetra-Core!"

The crowd roared with excitement, tensions relieving and maiden hearts swooning. Bean didn't know what to say, he was so awestruck. Sonic's coolness washed wave upon wave of happiness over him, and Shadow's suddenly good-natured courteousness allowed Knuckles and Espio to retrieve another lunch for him. The Wednesday meal and a cherry tart for dessert were handed to him. He had no choice but to take them in gratitude.

Silver's ears were so tuned in on them that he could no longer hear the other students' rallying. Sonic made a face at Shadow before scratching the back of his head. Then, he and Knuckles teamed up to carry Bean, in chair, up the four tiny steps. "Be careful…" came the leader's gentle command. He and Espio vaulted up a stair-less side while Knuckles and Sonic steadied the Freshman. Back on more-than-just-solid ground, Bean grinned as he rolled to the round table. Girls cooed at Espio and Shadow's gentlemanly bends and Bean's reactive chortle. But those other sounds were still muted to Silver's ears. Mighty's "Well, how 'bout that? Those guys really are good, aren't they?" and Ray's "Yeah, like real-life heroes!" failed to reach his awareness, as well.

And soon enough, the Tetrarch Chorus and their first guest were engaged in a completely different conversation. Like nothing ever happened, like no one else was there.

Like _he _wasn't there.

"Hey, Silver?" Jet's call was no clearer than a garble. "You alright? You can sit back down, you know…? Silver? Silver?"

And something in Silver wasn't happy about it.

* * *

Urania, the White Moth, welcomed Silver into the Science Wing. Her wings wafted stars and comets across the ceiling vaults. Her eight sisters gawked in wonder, the first admirers of her astronomical prowess. Humanoid representations usually depicted her as a silent beauty, a globe or bar in hand, looking toward the spangled cosmos. She could see the future in it, most mythologists would say. Thus, her sisters look to her with pride and wonder, praising their sister's wisdom and following after her without fail.

Silver always wondered about the concept of admiration, especially amongst the Nine Muses. They were all daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, yet they admired one another? How could they admire every other's powers—some were as contradictory as cats and dogs. But they were also sisters and grew up together, so supposedly that had something to do with it? Or it might be just something that the school founders imagined?

Well, Silver didn't have any siblings, so it frustrated him that he couldn't fully understand such a simple concept. And, of course, understanding the opposing concept only frustrated him more.

He shuffled his feet down that Milky Way for a corridor. The Science Wing was an ideal place for future environmental science majors, and just general science fanatics, to enthuse and study together. The most notable was the Greenhouse Sanctuary—part laboratory, part garden, much like its name suggested. More delicate specimens were being raised in the glasshouse. In a way, the teachers wanted their students to treat them like "pets," eager to feed them, water them, and watch them grow and thrive from their efforts. Of course, no one was assigned to one plant; it was a communal effort. Lots of Silver's classmates liked that about the Botany curriculum.

Apparently, the upperclassmen did, too. But not from the curricular aspect alone.

The Gothic French theme left another door set around the end of the hallway. It screamed natural whimsy, from the wood's clean grain to the enchanted frosty panels. Another placard hung overhead: "Urania's Conservatory," it read. Silver shuffled into the alcove and grasped the brass handles. His hands were shaking, for some reason.

Beyond, a verdant abundance opened up before him. Not yet a rainforest, but not quite a prairie either. Some trees were interlaced with strong ivy, close together and shading the more sensitive specimens. At different points around the greenhouse dome, window vents allowed small birds to venture in and out. There were even birdhouses to let them know they're welcome. Insects managed to creep and buzz inside. Due to the nature of the conservatory, (inside a school), bothersome pests were warded away from the Conservatory entrance.

Everything was so green, Silver's eyes went over every inch of it. He hobbled across to the sun deck. The sunbeams were comfortable, and comforting, that September afternoon. Summer was indeed winding down.

"This place…is amazing," the Junior Classman sighed like a breathless child. His sneakers pattered across cherrywood, down a few steps, but froze at the landing.

Someone yawned. Loudly.

Less than twenty more steps ahead, Sonic the Hedgehog was stretching his arms over his head.

That infamous deer-in-the-headlights quietly bolted underneath the deck. Deep shadows hid his unique figure; glassy dark ambers made sure the Senior didn't see him before sneaking further back.

"Babe? It's time to get up."

After a hearty sigh, Sonic shook Shadow's shoulder lightly. The Tetrarch Chorus co-captains apparently decided to spend their Sixth Period in the greenhouse. Sonic looked well-rested, enough to make his seemingly busier partner look cozy. Being a hedgehog, Shadow slept on his side, curled like a crescent moon. He usually found himself facing to his right, and for Sonic's sake consciously considered doing it again. Those angular quills were still able to poke out an eye, after all.

"Final Period's gonna start in ten. Time to wake up." He pecked a sweetheart kiss just under the corner of Shadow's ear; it twitched one, two, three times. A chuckle roused the Senior further out of his nap. A testy grumble was blocked by a cheerful coo. "Wakey-wakey, Shadow-Baby…!" Sonic nuzzled his cheek against Shadow's. But the Captain retorted with a groggy "Stop it, I'm up," and a semi-rude palm against Sonic's face.

"B'aww, is the Captain still sleepy?" Silver heard another of the Blue Wonder's tender coos. A sour "I said stop it, I'm up now…jeez…!" followed. Blushing vibrantly, he watched the small lip-lock Sonic sneakily planted. A shaky grip clung to his shirt. An irregular heartbeat thumped for the duration of that five-second kiss. "Mm…now, let's get out of here," finished Shadow's rebuttal. It made Silver bite his lip.

The white hedgehog slinked back into the shadows; the two Seniors were making their exit. Within the briefest glance, Silver spotted the Seniors' hands interlock before stepping up on the sun deck. Timely heels clacked across the wood, right over Silver's head. He waited out the last of Sonic's chuckle, the doors closing, and a consecutive silence. An unerring silence.

"I'm all alone." Silver was indeed alone, and left completely unnoticed. In that cold—

"They should've spotted me. That pitiful attempt at hiding…they should've seen me! I don't understand!" His eyes trembled in it.

Unmistakable—

"I'm not a ninja! They…? Maybe they saw me and didn't say anything?" That troublesome heart hammered from an unforeseen infuriation. Those hands clenched the grass. That's all he could grasp within those shadows. "That has to be it, y'know?! It can be…anything…! Anything but this! Don't just ignore me!" In the midst of it, Silver lost all sense of reason. And slammed his forehead into the cherrywood stairs.

Heartless silence.

**_Épisode IV _**Set…

* * *

JunAegileus777: Heyyo! Surprise! Weren't expecting Mighty, Bean, and Ray, were you? The lost SEGA characters need more love, don't you think? Even though they're technically "scrapped characters," they all still have SEGA's name on them. I don't know too much about any of them, tbh. It's hard to know their personalities if they've never had much "game time." I've decided to insert some traits and characteristics that I think suit them—in this story, that is.

So, don't gnaw my head off if I get something wrong! I'm experimenting, here! DX

*Ahem!* Back to the A/N, more plot points have been made. Some noticeable, others not so much. Feel free to inquire, via my "shiny new forum link" on my profile page. Otherwise, constructive reviews are nice. I really wanna keep writing this thing! Do you guys wanna keep reading this thing?! XD


	8. Épisode V

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode V"_

"Oh my God, Silver, what happened to your head?!"

A thick gauze patch had been taped to the white hedgehog's forehead. It felt like everyone in the school had taken notice of it. It was a type of attention Silver wasn't too used to, and not fond of getting familiar with. Blood had finally crusted over the impact wound, so Silver was pretty sure he was no longer at risk of bleeding out. He had replaced the patch enough times; now all that was there was a red, crusting knot of flesh.

Silver's empty expression made Jet's squawk sound like an overreaction. "I, uh…just ran into an opening door." Dull was his response, almost as if it was obvious or that he'd done it before. "It's really no big deal."

Jet staggered. "Did you break it or something? 'Cause that looks like it really hurt—!"

"It's fine. Really. No big deal. Seriously."

Jet looked back at Ray and Mighty, who looked to each other. He didn't want the situation to blossom into a pointless argument, so he let it be. Bloodied gauze and all. They resumed their game of Four-Square, minus Silver. Soon into it, though, another boy was accepted to join in.

Seemingly without hesitation, too. Something about it grinded Silver's nerves. A light touch upon his bandage, and up curved a wicked smile. His snicker was quiet, lilting, and sinister.

* * *

"Talent Show's today~! Hip-hip hurray~!" Amy chanted. Naturally, she would be excited about an event she had a hand in promoting. She was clapping, pep-in-her-stepping, and playful. Not to make a big spectacle of herself, but of the event. "The Talent Show's today~! Hip-hip hurray~!" If she could have maracas, she would've danced with them. But her high-waisted uniform skirt swished with her funny little dance. It seemed like the waiting students took in her good spirits, as their entry into the Auditorium came closer. Thalia, the White Rabbit and Muse of Comedy, was perched atop the head of her melancholic sister. Melpomene, the White Wolf, seemed fairly disinterested in her sister's blossom-chewing.

Finally, the 6th Annual Wilhelmshaven Academy Talent Show was getting ready to start. The vast auditorium was filling up with anxious students and supervising faculty, while the principal was heading to a reserved seat in the balcony. Everyone backstage was preparing stage, light, and music cues. Amy two-stepped to her seat, but upon sitting down she found Secretary Rouge and Treasurer Wave beside her. The swallow made no sign of acknowledgement, although Rouge purposely hugged her bosom when she waved her dainty talons at her. 'This witch is here?' Amy hissed, disgusted by the bat's sorceress kiss.

This show would be hosted by none other than the Student Council's Archivist, Miles Prower, and Student-Director, Vector the Crocodile. And once the room had reached full capacity, the dynamic duo made their way onto the stage. Vector cheered from stage right, and Tails waved from stage left. The audience gave them proper acknowledgement by clapping. The announcers bowed, both handing each other a moment in the spotlight. Some onlookers laughed at Vector's goofiness, and the girls cooed at Tails' gentlemanly bow.

"Ladies and gentlemen, students and faculty! Welcome to Wilhelmshaven Academy's auditorium: Thalia's Playground!" came the green crocodile's announcement, as professional as he'd rehearsed. "We're your hosts for this afternoon's venue: 'Tis I, Director Vector—!"

"And I, Miles 'Tails' Prower, and we're here to welcome all to a brand-new school year, and to the 6th Annual Wilhelmshaven Academy Talent Show!" the ten-year-old enthused. "We don't wanna take up too much time, folks—!"

"But! We will say…that this year's show is gonna be _explosively awesome!_ Can we get an 'Oh yeah'?!"

The Academy students shouted back, "Oh yeah!" and cheered. It seemed their "Twin Link" announcer style was riding well with the audience that year.

"Aw yeah!" Vector nodded approvingly.

Tails went on with, "And now, without further ado, we present to you our opening act, featuring our very own…!" before Vector cued in to assist. "Crown Princes of the Dance Floor, our Tetra-Core—Sonic, Knuckles, Espio, and Shadow!"

Both Vector and Tails dashed offstage, cuing the music. An interesting techno-pop beat began to play, and Sonic and his dance partners were making their way onto the huge Wilhelmshaven Academy stage from the wings; the students raved at the flashing multi-colored lights and appearance of their idols. Espio had appeared from stage-right, while Knuckles and Sonic waded in from stage-left. They moved into a triangular formation.

For the first quarter of the fast-paced rhythm, Sonic, Knuckles, and Espio were the only ones onstage. They showed off their moves, pacing themselves accordingly. Highly enthusiastic and supportive, their audience raved over the creativity invested in their moves; thus, their cheering didn't die down at the very least. The audience clapped to the rhythm, and the three members of the dance squad reveled in it. As shown by Sonic's playful salute, Knuckles' fluid hand signs, and Espio's cute wink.

Then, there was a pause in the intensity. It gave the lighting techs time to slowly pan over Shadow, who was stepping down from the risers. His hips swayed as he swaggered, and the girls squealed.

The Japanese vocals of the song kicked in, and so did the Tetra-Core's moves. Shadow lip-synced the vocals perfectly as he moved quickly yet gracefully. Lots of hip movement and back shots were made, mostly by Shadow, but he could easily get away with it because he was expressing himself through his art. Sonic, Knuckles, and Espio stayed in alignment with him—especially Sonic. Close encounters and meaningfully romantic gestures were made between them.

_Tsunagaru shunkan, mezameru eien, machi kogareru…_

Their tandem backbends even wheeled backwards in a synchronized motion. A staged fight expanded between Knuckles and Espio, working as a counterbalance to the more obvious lover-couple's duets.

_Soko ni aru nara…_

The choreography of the performance was sublime: Their dance moves were crazy-rapid, and every step was counted. The flickering lights and blasting beat of the music created a concert-like atmosphere. Dance patterns were wild, witty, and even sexy. Some freestyle movements were made in between certain segments of the song, but were still unified. Each performer showed off their individual styles while keeping the beat. Soon enough, the final refrain was being sung—lip-synced by Shadow.

…_Kimi ni aru kara._

As the final reprise came closer to closure, the guys began to retreat, swaggering up the risers. One more set of dance steps were made before they froze in place, striking uniquely uniform poses. The lights panned away before they faded out, and the music's final beat echoed out.

The audience screamed, mostly the girls. They were all big fans of the Tetrarch Chorus. And anybody who didn't know it knew now.

Vector was holding his microphone out at the audience. Vigorously nodding, he grinned. "Ya hearin' what I'm hearin'?" he asked Tails.

"Wow, no kidding!" Tails enthused from the other end of the apron. "That was one snazzy intro!"

"Yeah! Way to go, Tetra-Core!" A close-knit pack of guys had no qualms shouting, whistling.

No girl was ashamed to admit, "We love you guys!" as well as individual declarations. Whether it was broadcasted or not was the only difference.

A stage transformation was in order. It was after the curtains were pulled shut that the Tetra-Core retreated backstage. Sonic was patting his face dry with a towel. "Heh, looks like that went well," he made the auspicious comment. "Feels like this year's gonna whiz right on by! Our ever-faithful fans love us all over again!" He grinned.

"Yeah," Knuckles agreed, resting his towel on a shoulder.

Espio looked over at Sonic and smiled sweetly.

"Hmph."

Sonic, Knuckles, and Espio glanced over to see Shadow sipping on a water bottle; apparently it was his and his alone. A backstage assistant had tossed him one, and he took the liberty to drink it in front of his crewmates. They all handed him blank stares.

"Umm, you could've grabbed some for us, you know…" Sonic complained with plump lips. Then a wily grin curved them. "And besides, you don't wanna have to go pee every five minutes, do you?"

Shadow choked. Sonic stifled a heavy snicker, while Knuckles and Espio gawked with blank eyes. There came a fierce growl, "Shut up."

Sonic grinned. "Whatever you say!"

The auditorium was buzzing with talk. Most of the girls in the audience had convened into little chat parties, to talk about how well the performers did and how "sexy" they looked in their costumes. As well as Espio's craftsmanship was shown, Shadow seemed to be the primary focus of the talks.

"Shadow's so dreamy!"

"Wow, Shadow looks _so _good in patent leather!"

"He's so cool! Eek!"

Silver sat in the middle of that discussion board. Freshmen-Class gold ribbons; of course, they were going to squeal at that factor. Quite frankly, Silver thought they were too "young and clueless" to notice those things about Shadow. Shadow was undoubtedly handsome, but how could they know to say he looks "so good" in patent leather? Fourteen-year-old girls' interests were a mystery to him. But being overtly sexual onstage was something Silver never liked about the Senior troupe: Simply because the intervals of Shadow grinding on Sonic were sickening.

In a jealous way.

The male students were trying to drown out the girls' boisterous chattering about Shadow, talking about how the actual talent show segment might play out. Silver's ears plucked up at certain mentions, something about a Primary Division student performing a work by a modern violinist, the same one accredited to the school's bell tones. Another said something about "a girl version of Shadow"; intrigue marked Silver's coy blush. He looked down at his feet. 'But…I could never date her, if I can't date Shadow himself…' he thought hopelessly.

"Tetra-Core," another backstage assistant called. "You're back onstage in less than forty-five seconds! Please freshen up and head back out there soon." The assistant left.

Sonic blinked. Then slyly suggested, "Let's be fashionably on time, shall we?" after interlocking arms with Shadow. He winked playfully at him; a chuckle lifted at the grumble he let out.

* * *

"…I wonder who the contestants are?" a boy in the audience asked.

"Yeah, and who's gonna make it this year?" said someone next to him.

"Let's see!" another farther down the row threw a pointer at Vector and Tails reappearing on the stage.

The director and junior host ran to center stage. Tails was the first one to it, with Vector jogging tiredly from the other wing. The ten-year-old was waving his hands upward, riling the crowd up into another round of applause, when he noticed Vector huffing a little. A tiny skit ensued.

"What's up, Director? You looked maxed out!"

"Ahh, nothin's up, kiddo! I just got outta the john…" Then, with a sneaky smirk to the audience, "since I'm such a…_Johnny_-on-the-spot." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Chirping crickets? A cough, a sneeze? Nothing.

"…Don'tcha get it? Because _John,_ and _Max? _They're guy names…?"

Absolutely nothing. Even the principal shook his head.

Giant tears gushed out of Vector's eyes. "Aw c'mon, you guys! That was a good one!"

Tails sweated a little. "Anyway, um…here we are again, ladies and gents—here to commence the 6th Annual Wilhelmshaven Academy Talent Show segment! And here to judge and critique, personally, is our one and only Tetrarch Chorus!"

From within a pop of backstage mist, three silhouettes appeared. "Come on out! Presenting…!" Tails named them off as they walked on, one by one. "A hurricane-force breakdancer, our spunk master appears—Vice-Captain Sonic the Hedgehog!" Sonic waved peace signs at his share of applause. His wild faux-snow leopard made some girls go crazy, especially coupled with his navy patent chaps, vest, and multitude of sashes and belts. Being the notable showoff he was, he moon-walked flawlessly and high-fived both Tails and Vector. A brotherly wink was exchanged between the hedgehog and much younger fox.

"Awesome! Next to grace us is our Music-Producer ace and bebop whiz! Dubbed our funk master is Knuckles the Echidna!" Knuckles two-stepped up to center stage. Too cool were his red-and-brown-lion's-mane combo, biker gloves, and a graphic neckerchief. He seemed to be scanning the audience, and soon pointed out. Bean the Duck, from a couple days earlier, gasped. Knuckles bobbed, coolly showing off the new accessory. He gave him a thumbs up; Bean was speechless in returning the gesture.

"Aww, how nice! Kudos to Bean the Duck! Looks like you're the cool kid of the week, for quite an inspirational piece!" Apparently, Bean had given the dance troupe the neckerchief idea. "Even our next Prince has something to—show—about it, folks! The reticent but ever-present Costume Designer is always prowling to feed his Muse! Let's show Espio the Chameleon some love!" The white-clad eighteen-year-old was as much a showoff as Sonic: If he could have a match with Chun-Li, he would match her leg thrusts blow-for-blow. The combo flapped his coat's swallowtails, false white tiger fur serving as a scarf collar. Upon his move's end, Espio clacked a medium heel against the floor and gave the spectators a thankful bow.

"Wow! I think you just got one-upped, Big Bro!" Tails chuckled, sneakily goodhearted. "But don't worry! What will your mysterious, fan-raving, mind-blowing leader have to show us? Your biggest fans beckon for you, Chorus Captain—Shadow the Hedgehog!"

And that's when the girls screamed.

Shadow descended from the upper rafters. His suit was not too different from his dance mates, only it bore the same black patent Silver had marveled back in the Embroidery workshop, where Espio had been working on it. Lemon drops sparkled, fancied by the dark ethereality surrounding the seventeen-year-old Senior. Boot heel anchored within a harness rung, Shadow arched backwards as he twirled downward. The girls gasped, amazed and scared by the feat. He hung like a black widow, falling slowly, daintily. And by flawless handholds did Shadow connect with Sonic. He took Shadow into loving arms, so he could disconnect the safety harness. He was greeted with a hair's-breadth kiss. Sonic grinned as his boyfriend drew a heart on his chest.

Every other girl couldn't contain their squeals. Wave hid her blush, embarrassed by her reaction and for Rouge's sparkly-eyed overreaction. Even Amy let out a tiny coo.

"Ah…welcome to the stage, Captain! Your entrances are always so dramatic! That's the best one yet!" Tails threw out a greeting hand. Shadow popped his braded collar before returning the handshake.

"Well, school ladies and gents, let's get this Talent Show…_on the road!_" Vector cheered. His pumped fists are vivacious. "We've got four lovely acts for you all! First up is…!"

* * *

The four acts indeed served nicely. And the very first act did feature a little violinist. She seemed to have a good stage presence, but everyone could tell she was still a tad shy. The woman accompanying her, presumably her mother, walked her onto center stage and sat beside her music stand. The Principal whispered best wishes to the little girl and her mother. And soon enough, the rabbit girl was stringing out a solo "Bach Street Prelude," a rival piece the headmaster had debated about using for the school's bell system. Amazement brightened his middle-aged visage. "My word, she's wonderful…!" He prayed for her entry into the High School Division. Years from then, of course.

After her performance, the Tetra-Core applauded from a gallery midway of the main floor of the auditorium, where a set of reserved signs had been placed. "She did good," Knuckles remarked to Espio, who nodded in clear agreement. There was something awfully cute about the mother-daughter duo: Tails blushed, seeing her skip off the stage.

Swiftly following, three more acts featured High School Division students: The second was a display of showmanship of sorts, where a pair of ermine xylophonists were trying to outdo each other, performing "Flight of the Bumblebee" in its midst. Sonic was surprised at how well the twins drummed: still timely and rhythmic, despite the competitive aspect. He chuckled, "Even competing against each other, they're still in sync…!" with a drop of sweat falling comically.

As for the third act, a lavender femme fatale, declaring herself as "Blaze the Storming Flame" and calling Shadow out, promised never to "lose to him, neither in dance nor in class." Mildly entertained by the notion, Shadow watched Blaze perform a balletic solo to Prokofiev's "Art of War." An emotionless glare kept track of her, reading and scoring each movement. Something about the fellow Senior Classman irked him, but at least her challenges never bored him. He indulged her, however, congratulatory about her wins and critical about her losses. Her performance this time was well done; he really had no reason to quibble with her about it. Nevertheless, his neutrality made her steam.

The final act presented a lovely lady skylark, who'd chosen "O Holy Night" for her presentation. Despite the confused murmurs, she was able to state the deep connection it had with her. It was an operatic rendition, in ode to her late grandfather. Her voice could lull stormy heavens, even if the song was a bit out-of-season.

As the main house lights came back up, Silver timed his clapping with the onlookers around him. "That chick was awesome! It was a Christmas song, but whatever…!" His eyes glittered, happy that most of the High School Division classmen were cheering and whistling for the skylark's performance. He smiled a little, but soon the applause died down.

Both Vector and Tails made their way back on the stage. They waved down the crowd, ready to make some final announcements. "Alright, ladies and gents," Tails began, "it looks like it's time for this shindig to wind down…Aw! But we were _just _getting the good part, right? Well, you've seen acts as good as good can get, folks! And now, I'll hand over the Talent Show Magisterial Induction over to—well, who else?"

That cued the lighting techs to swivel a spotlight onto Sonic. His balance on the table was impeccable. Cool and just as tech-savvy, he brought up an edge of his collar and spoke into the tiny microphone clipped on it. "Why, thank you, Littlest and Bestest Bro!" Sonic said, playfully gracious and bowing. The boy giggled, and Sonic went on: "Hey, everybody! This is Sonic the Hedgehog of the Tetra-Core here, and I'm gonna explain how this year's Induction is gonna go down!"

While he went into his explanation, the six contestants were directed onto the stage. They lined up in a neat single-file line in front of the audience, each of them awaiting a placement. The rabbit girl held tight to her mother's hand with nervous mahoganies. The ermine twins flared their tails, looking to each other before heaving brave sighs. The soprano lark clasped her hands modestly in front of her. Although, Blaze's arms were crossed, taut and impatient. She glared at Shadow as she caught onto something about votes and scores.

"All we're gonna do is cast one big vote! Everyone in the audience, including the four of us, has a slip of paper underneath their seats. As you all probably have looked _and _touched, there are five checkboxes: One for each act, and an 'Don't Know/Don't Care' option…for those unsung neutrals out there." He wiggled his brows at Shadow, who sneered back. "Now, please take this time to vote on who you guys think did best! At a capacity limit of 1,500, Thalia's Playground is jam-packed! So cast your votes, quickly but surely, so you guys can get outta here and enjoy your weekend!" Sonic grinned.

Silver's writing hand quivered. He didn't want to choose one over the other, he felt they'd all done well. And he didn't want to cast an undecided vote, since it wouldn't be fair to them or anyone else. An undecided vote would be the same as a countless vote. And Silver wanted someone to have an advantage.

"Tick tock, everyone! Let's get these votes in!"

Silver panicked. 'We have to finish now—_already?! _But I can't choose!' The theater ushers were approaching his row. The student next to him was coaxing his slip. 'Oh no! I—But I—!' He threw a check mark into a random box and passed it over.

"And deliberation is now…over." The ushers each handed Sonic a clean stack, which was passed to Knuckles, Espio, and Shadow equally. "Awesome! Now, if you please, hang tight while we tally up the picks!" Sonic sank into his seat and started counting up the slips. Apparently, Espio was the fastest at it, and his three crewmates let him handle the sorting.

Silver's heart was hammering against his chest. He wrung his hands. 'Oh, I hope to God none of them judged me!' His eyes peered along the rest of his row. There was a hard gulp. Luckily, he was the only one that heard it. 'And…I hope nobody gets disheartened by my vote!' He squeezed his eyelids together. Hands clutching his knees, his jittery eyes leered over to the Tetrarch Chorus. They seemed to be finishing already, since the point to "get out of there and enjoy the weekend" was totally valid. Even though their backs were to him, Silver could see their faces.

Sonic and Shadow's faces. Eyes glazed with romance. Tongues tangoing, incisors nibbling hearty lips. Much like what he saw on Banquet Night.

"Alright, the votes are all tallied up! Thank you, lightning-fast vote counter!" Sonic jazzed a hand at Espio, who gave a humble half-bow in return.

But a garbled silence fell over Silver's awareness. After the incident in the Conservatory, Silver noticed something different about himself: Not remembering much of what happened beforehand. Which was strange, considering he had really good memory most of the time. He found gauze on his forehead, and white everywhere else. Apparently, a Science Wing teacher had found him during a Seventh Period Botany class. An ambulance must've been called because Silver didn't recognize the room he was in: It was shrieking, rumbling, complete with wordy personnel spitting out medical jargon and light tire screeches.

"For our 3rd Legacy Runners-Up, scoring 315 votes is…Act #3, the Verdinan Twins! You rocked those 'phones, guys!" The ermines brothers in question knew they were at the bottom, but praised the fact that they didn't necessarily lose anything.

Silver could hear his mother fretting over the condition of her child. Though, none of her words could be made out. A red trickle stained his eye.

"Now, for our 2nd Legacy Runner-Up, scoring 327 votes is…Act #5, Mila Ricosa! You made your grandfather proud today!" Teary-eyed, the songbird hugged the violinist's mother. While the violinist herself clapped for her.

Her words still couldn't be made out. Silver couldn't see her tears, her disappointment and fear. He heard her complain about something akin to "being a lousy mom" and egged it on while he was still halfway conscious. She was a single mom, and Silver was her only child. But being unable to look her injured son in the eye and tell him how lousy she was did a real number on Silver. It felt like she was punishing herself for something he did—a choice _he _made. It was a self-destructive tendency he felt had bled into his psyche.

And it made him sick.

"Two more, folks! Who will be our Legacy Show winner? It was a close call, but it looks clear enough to me! Let's see…" Sonic hummed. "Ah-ha! With a total of 403 votes, our 1st Place Legacy Show winner is none other than…Act #4, Blaze the Storming Flame!"

'What the—?!' The lavender cat's whiskers frizzled with shock. "What a real hot mama!" Sonic's audacious comment made her fume. A prejudiced leer focused between her eyes and Shadow's. One-sided sparks diffused against an unfeeling return. 'What? I won?! Is he making a mockery out of me, Wilhelmshaven's Prima?!' Her internal persona's fangs gritted together, but her outward composure hid all other signs of suspicion. '_Letting _me win after wasting _two years _trying to one-up you! Filthy, conniving little rat!' ranted her internal rage.

"Wow! What an honor! But I don't think we've told everyone the gravity of the Legacy's purpose…?" Sonic looked to his teammates for some assurance; but Knuckles and Espio shook their heads while Shadow huffed, waving a permissive hand. "I will, but first, little Cream here and her mom are probably wondering if something went screwy in the vote tallying…right?"

Cream, pointing at herself, nodded tearfully. But her mother knelt down and held her closer. Motherly and daughterly hands still together: The sight made members of the audience coo in sympathy. The woman nodded to Sonic.

Sonic showed the rabbit girl a vindicatory smile and thumbs up. "No worries, Cream and Mom! 'Cause not only did you secure 450 votes, but I'm gonna tell you how an 'Honorary Legacy Winner' works." He winked at her.

Silver's attention wasn't on the results ceremony at all. It was as cloudy as an overcast sky. Just like the day after he slammed his head against the stairs. The doctor spoke of no fractures or infections. The injury was treated right away, before any unneeded complications could unfold. But his mother still looked sick with guilt. Maybe it was her fault for not being open to hear her son's complaints, for being "too busy" to love and care for him? Maybe he was frustrated by how hard coming out to her would be, seeing that if he liked boys there'd be no chance of her having any biological grandchildren? Would she hate him? Would he be kicked out on the street? Would a _real _loving mother really disown her son and leave him to fend off the world's wolves?

Wilhelmshaven Academy was his only escape. Attending it must've cost her quite the pretty penny. And dime, quarter, and nickel. Failing his classes would equal her wasting hard-earned money. Which would equate in either him getting two or three jobs or becoming homeless. Neither of which he wanted; so he had to find a different incentive to keep him afloat.

"…So basically, Cream, you already have a place in our home and hearts here at Wilhelmshaven's High School Division. Your violin fingers are mad-skilled, you've got a fantastic mom to back you up, and your grades are pretty okay! Just keep at it, and don't you dare give up, little lady! You're the Tetra-Core's future…because once you—and hopefully your friends—are accepted, that's when the Legacy part comes in. Once you're jet-set, you'll be able to form a Fine Arts group all your own! Get yourself around a modest number of friends, and become your own signature chorus! It can be whatever you want it to be…because someone as gifted and cute as you deserves it!" Sonic couldn't helping grinning at the little girl's excited hopping.

He, Knuckles, Espio, and Shadow led the auditorium into an uproar of applause. Whistles and hoots and hollers trilled all over, and Cream felt like a real superstar. The Runners-Up clapped for her and her mother, who twirled her 'round and 'round in a fun waltz. Sonic whispered something to Shadow; in response, he popped his collar to hide his mouth.

In the next chain of events, Vector and Tails were escorting the Academy's principal to center stage. Each Runner-Up got a handshake or a hug. Then, most importantly, the Principal was given a microphone and announced Cream the Rabbit as the first and youngest Honorary Legacy Winner in all of Wilhelmshaven's existence. In her honor, he granted an allowance of $20 per report card grade at a "B" or higher until her acceptance into the High School Division was verified.

Massive cheers rang out for her. The little girl didn't understand the full gravity of it, but the sight of her mother's happy tears gave her the understanding that it was a very good thing.

"It feels good to make someone happy, doesn't it?"

Shadow's eyes wandered over to see Sonic's: Away and bemused, sparked with heartfelt gladness for the mother-daughter duo. It sounded more like the question was for himself than for Shadow to answer. A modest blush stained the Captain's muzzle. It grew at the feel of the blue hedgehog's courtly kiss. It was just a peck of warmth, but it was enough to get a bashful reaction out of him. And in the midst of the revelry, the soul mates shared a courtship's kiss.

_ "Let's make this the best year of our lives."_

Silver reasoned Sonic and Shadow would be his new incentive. If not that, then his livelihood.

**_Épisode V _**Set…

* * *

Quick Reference: Tetra-Core Talent Show Opening - "Invoke (Phase Shift)" by T.M. Revolution, _Gundam Seed_.


	9. Fashionmongers' Caesura

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Fashionmongers' Caesura"_

Finally, Friday was done. But the duties of a certain Costume Designer had yet to be finished. After all the festivities, and the students headed home, Espio collected the costumes of his band mates. He was extremely proud of his work and how well they functioned onstage: He didn't think spandex and leather could go together so well like that. The marriage was absolutely perfect.

And Tails thought so, too. The Honorary Freshman offered to help carry some of the clothes, even though it was just one. His Big Brother's, obviously. "You know what? Halloween's coming up next month," the fox went off on another topic. "What do you wanna do for that? I was thinking monsters and ghouls! You know, like werewolves, vampires, mummies and stuff! What would you go as? Ooh—maybe _I _can help design your costumes this year?! That would be _so awesome! _I've got loads and loads of ideas, so…!"

Espio the Chameleon giggled at the boy's enthusiasm.

The Embroidery Room sign indicated occupancy soon after Tails and Espio's arrival. Sonic, Shadow, and Knuckles had to take care of some respective duties, as well. While the Student Council Co-Presidents took care of post-event things, and Knuckles helped Vector and his crews tear down the stage, Espio took the liberty to have some not-so-quiet time with Tails. Planning for the Halloween festivities wasn't a bad idea; he just didn't want to do it alone. Good thing Tails had so many ideas for them: "A big party in the Dining Hall," the ten-year-old began vividly, "with lots of spider webs, and creepy green and orange ooze! It could be a masquerade! Maybe put some fake blood here and there—for a 'Black Widow Murder Mystery'…? That sounds cool…"

Espio could feel the boy's ideas intensifying. With each idea came new scopes for settings, costumes, and a makeshift estimate. He was calculating all the possible expenses via Smartphone.

"…I guess, for the sake of the budget, we could make the spider webs out of cotton?" Tails shrugged.

The chameleon's head bobbed with certainty. With that, Tails kept note of it in a little notepad.

The two students bonded as they went on their merrily creative way. More masquerade and murder mystery ideas swam all over the ceiling. The Sewing Room's inventory was going through a pick-and-choose ritual, so the two fashion enthusiasts could get a good scope of what they wanted. Espio and Tails didn't bicker much. They seemed to share an eye for aesthetics. Theatre clothes were always the most fun to design, and with Wilhelmshaven's Embroidery Room abundant with cottons and tweeds and everything in between, there wasn't a doubt in the world that could stop those minds from stitching up something.

"A fabric hodgepodge would be perfect for a Frankenstein scientist!"

Espio pulled a pile of leftovers to his feet to work with.

"Dark red velvet for a vampire hunter, and we could have swamp-themed tweed for a witchdoctor!"

Said fabrics were placed into piles on the worktable. Espio's keen eye and fingertips felt over the various swatches. Tails' insight led to even more ideas, so many that a checklist was in order. "The Black Widow Murder Mystery" was shaping well, but the name sounded a tad "corny." A slight adjustment was made.

"I've got it: 'Lightless Strikes by a Black Widow'…how does that sound, Espio?"

The purple chameleon clapped sweetly, which made Tails bashful and scratch the back of his head. The swatches were neat and collected. As far as Tails had written, the list consisted of: "A Frankenstein scientist, a witchdoctor, a vampire hunter, a girl possessed by ghost of countess, and a 'monster spider'." Tails pecked a pen against his temple. "Well, right now all we need is someone to write up the script. Got anybody in mind?"

But when Tails looked over, Espio was raising his hand. All-too-coy was the Senior Classman's smile. The fox boy blinked at how cute anyone could possibly be, let alone Espio. The upperclassman was like a mentor. Just one that happened to act extremely adorable for his age. A sparkle of creative whimsy had graced over his amber eyes, like he already had the play plotted out in his mind. And Tails trusted those eyes with all his heart. He grinned, "Well, okay! I'll bet it's gonna be great! I can't wait to read it!"

Another sweet aura radiated from the Senior.

"…Umm, Espio?"

His ambers' attention was caught, and no longer held their sparkle.

"Are you wanting to write it out because you can't act it out?"

Something in his face made the eighteen-year-old look a bit bewildered, then ashamed. The charismatic glisten shifted into a more melancholic one, as the Senior looked askance from the Freshman. Tails' face, on the other hand, flushed a humiliating red, and his hands couldn't help flailing around. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to upset you! I just figured since…you know—?"

_ Buzz—Bzz-zz-zzt!_

Espio's phone was going off. "Yo. Can I come in?" A blush took over his face. After gawking at the text message, he darted for the door. It swung inward, and the decorative sign bobbed with the sharp motion. Knuckles the Echidna saw that he was out of breath, and wondered what the rush was. "Hey…you didn't need to run, yo. I was gonna walk in anyway." The echidna chuckled.

But soon, Espio threw the swatch collection in front of Knuckles' face. Amethyst scanned over each entry, particularly fancied by the witchdoctor scheme. "Aw yeah, dis the Halloween shindig we s'posed to be plannin' for?" He was nodding approvingly. "A'right, a'right. We'll let Shadow have a look at that. See what he says. Y'all planned this together?" he asked the approaching Freshman.

With a cute, comradely grin, he nodded, "Yup! And we've even got a name for the murder mystery! We've got notes on the masquerade, themes, costumes—Espio even wants to write up the script!"

Espio's blush looked more embarrassed than proud, now.

Tails' ears folded, twin tails drooping a bit. "But I think I discouraged him, since he can't act out the actual play because—?"

"It's a'ight, man." Knuckles brought up a fist to Espio. Upon seeing the chameleon blink rapidly, he added, "So what if you can't talk? Your voice may be gone, but your mind is even louder. An' you know it, too. Right?"

The two eighteen-year-olds tapped fists. Knuckles grinned coolly, and showed Espio out the room. Tails grabbed the keys, locked the door, flipped the sign, and off they went. Tails wasn't as charismatic as he was before, due to becoming sensitized to Espio's feelings. But all was well again, once Knuckles started asking them things like "Would I make a good witchdoctor?" and "So who's the 'Black Widow' gonna be?". Tails' eyes brightened to the return of Espio's cheerfulness.

Knuckles had worked some kind of charm on him, evidently. And whatever that charm was, Espio wanted it to continue to work, like it _always _did. Ever since way back then.

**_Fashionmongers' Caesura _**Set…

* * *

JunAeglieus777: Hey, you guys! Back with another Caesura~! Featuring Tails and Espio (and Knuckles) this time! Within a conversation I was having with a forum mate, I came across the inspiration to write this chapter. I would've never expected this kind of interaction btwn. Tails and Espio—And. It's. So. Gosh. Darned. Cute. Had a feeling this was coming; I accredit **infamousplot** for helping me smooth out the details for my Muse! Thank you, and I hope you read this!

More normal chpts on the way. Get ready for a corkscrew, you guys. The meaning behind _"Mes Larmes"_ is about to come into light...!


	10. Épisode VI

**WARNING:**** Graphic depictions of violence, strong language, implicit lime, and ideologically sensitive subjects ahead.**

**CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

* * *

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode VI"_

Tree leaves were tingeing with gold, orange, red. Dark reddish-purple leaves on several Japanese maples had not yet been plucked; the winds were just beginning to nip at the boys' slacks, and under the girls' skirts. Thankfully, the in-city fieldtrip wasn't anywhere outdoors. The collection of Visual Art students was heading out to see an exhibit. The company providing the not-so-long-distance coach bus felt privileged to chauffeur them to the local art museum. Amy Rose was included in that bunch. Though not technically a Visual Art student, she always counted herself and Piko the Nikon as a dynamic photography duo. She was aiming to become the Print Press's "Proxy-Manager," after all.

She straightened her Freshman ribbon, grinning from ear to ear. Piko was presentable, shiny and clean, and ready to capture the upcoming moments. Sharp aubergine and gold surrounded her: A few male students were honest about not being comfortable in their uniforms. One even admitted to not having broken into his dress shoes yet. A couple of older girls were debating about how an ascot was tied. They didn't look that much older (like sophomores, actually), so Amy wondered if their ascots were too formal for the fieldtrip. 'Girls will be girls, I guess…?' Something in her mind seemed unpromising to her.

* * *

Back at Wilhelmshaven Academy, Jet the Hawk was just arriving from Archery practice. Something about the boys' dormitory felt welcoming, snuggly, like "Home Sweet Second Home." He shifted his duffel bag more onto his shoulder before pushing in on the door. The Gothic French touch didn't feel girly in the least, as opposed to the actual girls' dorm doors. Not that he'd know or anything—since he was still in high school. He did wonder if the girls' dorm had the same general layout as the boys', though.

Campus regulations prohibited boys from peeking in on all the girls' facilities: Dorm rooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, changing rooms. It was the same for the girls in respect to the boys' facilities, as well. Unless it was a life-or-death situation, both were forbidden to accompany the opposite to all of those places. Campus security never joked around about that rule. And "Dying to catch a glimpse at some lady lumps" or "rock-hard abs" never counted as excuses, either.

So, the only stone placard Jet, and all the other boys, were allowed to read was "Ulysses Andiron Hall." As for the girls, "Sagitta Artemisia Hall."

Inside, through the atrium, past the lounge areas, up some stairs, and a few doors up, Jet arrived to a door on the right. The dorm was a complete square, so it was easy to lose track of what floor one might've been on. Thank goodness for the letters preceding the numbers. Even if they were Roman numerals. His room, "II-04" read "deuxième four," technically. But no one gave it proper credence. So everyone resolved to say "two-zero-four"; even the residence assistants didn't care for the language splice.

Jet wiggled his key in order to open the door. "Hey, roomie! I'm back!"

"Hey, Jet," came Silver's reply.

It sounded breathy, like he'd been running or something. The "W-Welcome back!" sounded nervous, too. But Jet didn't want to pay too much attention to it. He slung his bag onto his bed.

"So, how'd Archery go? Score some bull's eyes?" Silver wondered.

"Yep! Like always! I _am _the team's ace-in-the-hole, y'know!" He couldn't gesture like he wanted to, due to his unpacking. "I think the winter practices are gonna be more brutal, though."

Silver snapped his eyes over to Jet. "You'll have to practice throughout the wintertime, too?!"

"Well, not officially. The coaches can't coach us while they're on winter vay-cay!" A haughty guffaw rolled from robust lungs. Apparently, Jet had worked up a good sweat at practice. Interchanging forehead wipes with hearty sighs, Silver never considered Jet a "handsomely fit" guy. Of course the arms of an archer were forces to be reckoned with, except something about the hawk's interest in it felt unbecoming. Maybe it was because he just wanted to show off? Then why wouldn't he try getting into a competitive Fine Art? Like Theatre, Choir, Band? Or Dance?

No. Dance was off-limits to those under par. For obvious reasons.

"Man, if I wasn't so tied down to Archery, I'd fly south for the winter!" He stretched his arms over his head. "Good thing it's not here just yet! I've still got a contest to win!" He whistled, happy and trill, and flopped down.

Silver had stopped listening. While Jet raved about some upcoming Archery tournament, Silver had refocused on his homework. Foreign symbols and litanies of formulae abound: Trigonometry. It was neither a worthwhile nor dreadful subject. It's just that Silver was too bright a student to care. Nothing about the formulae, symbols, and their meanings and uses bored Silver. It was something to pass the time. Something easy to do. He wasn't interested in the subject, or math in general. He merely figured it to be an obstacle, one he needed to surpass to get to the next grade.

A way of thinking that nearly blasphemed the school's motto. But what would be the point in continuing, if the meaning of his existence would no longer be there?

When Jet didn't get any returns to his witty commentary he sneered at Silver, calling him something akin to a "rude bookworm," before getting started on his own assignments.

The analog desk clock ticked away. After-school hours were generally quiet, restful, until rowdy dormers decide to go on a loudness streak. It was those times Silver came to despise. Of course, the sun was nowhere near the horizon. But silence was gold, and duct tape was silver; getting silence using duct tape was what usually earned him a stone medal. The white hedgehog knew their ruckus would annoy anyone. He wasn't brave enough to knock on a neighbor's door and ask them to quiet down? It was a simple move to make; it was what Jet had more guts to do, and he always came back fine. So why couldn't Silver do it?

Oh, that's right. He was too scared, too "pissy" to do it. The "Quicksilver" moniker spread around the dorm faster than he realized. Faster than the stain that'd appeared in his trousers that Banquet Night. Before the eyes of his unreal soul mates.

The Junior Classman found himself unable to concentrate anymore. It was the last problem on the worksheet. It annoyed him that he couldn't focus enough to write down a single number. Soon, he noticed his writing hand shaking. He threw his sights over to his roommate.

Jet had fallen asleep. Atop a less difficult Geometry textbook, paper strewn over his pillow and the floor. His pencil dangled in his grip before clacking against the hardwood. It missed his floor mat—by a mile, Silver thought. The clash of wood grades wracked his nerves for some reason.

He was noticing everything, suddenly: The clock ticks, Jet's snoring, the vespertine birdsongs, the crickets, the wind, the crashing leaves—activities of his room, environment, the Earth itself was driving him mad.

'Why is everything suddenly so loud?!' Clammy palms clutched his ears. 'Oh God, am I going insane?! I'm going crazy…_right now?!_' His eyes trembled. 'Oh, Jesus…Oh, Jesus…Sweet baby Jesus, sweet baby Jesus…!' The chanting did not save him. Could anything save him at that point?

One thing: "My livelihood." Bradycardia thumped familiarly. "My livelihood, those two are my…?"

An alluring gaze only Shadow was allowed to see. Sonic the Hedgehog's wild twists and bends amazed him. His Talent Show performance was positively flawless. And so was what Silver imagined seeing; something he knew he'd never get permission to see. Sonic's open chest was captivating. Partially exposed, completely exposed, it made no difference to the Junior Classman. He was too young to yearn for the sculptured six-pack a stroke below. All he could do was dream, and dream he did.

"Sonic's…exposed chest…?" The Junior gulped hard. His slow heartbeat threatened to break out of its ribbed cage. "It's…a dream in itself." Peachy fuzz, what he wanted to nuzzle, was reserved for the Student Council President, and the President alone. Silver could feel a vibe of protectiveness from the Vice-President. It was a more intense, almost intimate grade. The darkness that fell over those vibrant green eyes screamed foreboding. And as much as he wanted to heed them—and did—those eyes enthralled him. "They're scary, but…in a weird way. It's like…I like them…?" A quivering hand clutched his chest fur.

A body all-too-desirable was Sonic's to have and hold. Shadow was a bit too curvy for a guy. He flaunted it, a bit needlessly, but Silver knew he could faint if those bold hips ever sashayed his way. Frostbitten rubies, bossy sneers, fists of an iron ruler—all could send him reeling in captivation, mesmerization, euphoria. Silver pleaded to all higher powers that could hear him: "If he's not the one for Sonic, make him the one for me." Unlikely as it was, Silver still had hopes, backup dreams. Or just one—_that one._ "Shadow's eyes alone cut deeply. He could cut my heart and soul to pieces! …And I would still love him."

A deepening dream, Silver could see them now: Locked in a feverish soul kiss. The boy's heart pounded. Reds, white, swirling 'round and 'round. Wily hands. Beckoning moans. Hearty sighs. Gruff chuckles. Lips, tongues, chests touching! He was too young to imagine it, let alone see it. Names whispered. Eyes glazed over. Just a breath or two in between locking lips. What was this feeling?

"I would love _both _of them…!"

The names whispered were each other's. Gruffness escaped Sonic's throat.

"I would love them even if they ate _my _heart out…!"

Shadow's toneless sighs were hot, laden with—whatever came after such intensity.

"Don't choose, Silver. Take both."

Silver knew he was too young to feel it. He was just too far gone in his fantasies to care. His eyes, away from the evening light and the somnolent Jet, darkened. It was a heinous, envious, greedy darkness. It beckoned lust. Without much of the white hedgehog's own awareness to such a vice. At sixteen years old, the boy wanted to know what love felt like. It was an age of curiosity, learning intuition, asking questions.

"Make them yours."

Experimentation.

"You can, y'know…!"

Sonic's emerald button eyes gawked at Silver. No animosity, no judgment. Shadow's crimson mirrors weren't anywhere near as prejudiced or intimidating, either. But there were also no other feelings. Such as happiness, regard—or love.

Those chuckles. Tiny, quiet, a grin brimming with madness. The bottle of Risperdal pills awaited him in the Nurse's Office cabinet. Strangely, he'd never forgotten to take a dose before. Hands quaked against his face. Another trickle of saliva fell from his mouth's corner. Silver wanted to do so much with the Co-Presidents. He knew they'd never allow it.

"'Cause they already are."

But the schoolboy didn't appear to care.

* * *

"Yo, man…somethin' ain't sittin' right wit' me about that Silver kid."

"You too, Knuckles?"

"Yeah, man. I mean, he's been _really weird _these past…agh, since the first day back, dammit! Is he on somethin', 'cause this shit's not normal." The echidna shot a thumb in a nonspecific direction. Clearly, Silver's melodramatic tendencies were getting under his skin and making it crawl around. "First, he's all coy, then he flips into a drama queen, _and then _pretends to be sorry for the shit?" He shook his palms. "Nuh-uh. That shit's fake as hell, I'm sorry."

"But Silver's never been like this beforehand, has he?" Sonic really wanted to know from a sympathetic standpoint. "I mean, he's just a year under us. Honestly, I don't know too much about him to make judgments or assumptions about him, but…?" He frowned at the flashes of memory involving himself, Shadow, and the boy in question. "His behaviors are disjointed, erratic somewhat, like he's a different person everyday—as far as I've seen."

Espio was pecking at his Smartphone while his crewmates talked.

"Do he got some kinda condition or something?" Knuckles raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe. I can't be sure, since, y'know, I don't know that much about him." Sonic shrugged a little.

The Tetrarch Chorus had met up in a lounge area in Ulysses Andiron Hall. Seated at a bay window, Sonic perched on its sill while Knuckles, Espio, and Shadow took their seat in a trio of chairs. The small tea table at their feet was kind enough to cradle some after-school snacks. As well as soft drinks for Sonic and Knuckles, iced tea for Shadow, and hot tea for Espio.

"Well, it ain't sittin' right wit' me, man." Knuckles crossed his arms. His eyes glared in a different nonspecific direction. "If he do got a condition, he needs to handle it—'fore _I _do," he snarled.

"You don't need to take it that far, Knuxster," Sonic swayed him with defensive hands. "I know there are some…not-so-normal things Silver does, but that doesn't mean he's a bad person. Sure, he's kinda needy and likes attention. But who knows what his back-story is?" He hopped down from his perch and rotated each shoulder. "I say we conduct a little investigation!"

"Are you cray, man? I ain't fittin' to nose into somebody else's business like that!" Knuckles snapped, falling spines stiffening. "You lost yo' damn mind!"

"C'mon, Knux! You're being too critical of the guy. I mean, besides, he's just a kid…just like we were."

"Last year," Shadow sneered before sipping his tea bottle.

"My point exactly!" He was showing his friends a smart-alecky index finger. "You see what one year has done to us, guys? Just _one _year? Think of all the maturity we've gleaned from last year—and combine it with Freshman and Sophomore year! Most of these 'whippersnappers' don't realize it, but we're still growing." Suddenly, a humble tone filled the air. "We're still maturing, we're still learning, and life is just beginning for us. We can't know everything…"

Shadow's eyes turned downward. Sunset glimmers reflected sorrowful moistness.

"Because we weren't designed to. And as high-end and high-maintenance as this school is, it's not pressuring us to be perfect. Just to be the best we can be. And Silver…he's not quite connected to the school motto yet. It sorta feels like…?" Sonic thought for a moment. And narrowed his eyes.

* * *

_"…He doesn't care about it."_

Jet had awoken to strange laughter. Then, was thrown into a tempest of confusion and fright: He had jumped from his bed to engage Silver. The two roommates tussled, quickly upon Jet noticing Silver dangerously close to stabbing a pencil into his thigh. "Silver, no! Let it go! What the hell's the matter with you, cut it out!" The pencil had flown from the hedgehog's grip. Jet had somehow pinned him to the floor. But found himself unnerved by the frenzied emptiness of the other boy's eyes. His cackling sounded strained, sadistic. Crazed with an unsaid glee.

Unfortunately for the hawk, he didn't know what it was. Much less how to deal with it.

"Silver, c'mon! Pull yourself together, bro!" Jet squawked at him, scared and irate at the same time. "Don't do this to me!"

But the boy's cackling prohibited him from speaking. And sooner into it, he was reeling. He fought against Jet. His intentions were muddled, unpredictable. Jet had no idea what to do; all the tussling was sure to worry the neighbors. Thinking quickly, Jet had to physically restrain Silver, who was kicking and clawing at him. His distressed laughter sounded forced, like he didn't want to laugh that way but ended up doing so. The green hawk wasn't too much of a fighter, but he did remember a wrestling hold from some time back. So, he moved swiftly to try out a chokehold. His roommate's hand movements were so wild, he couldn't take hold of them. He had no choice but to go straight for his neck.

A choke and a gasp, but then more crazed snickers.

"Hey! What's going on in there?!" an older male voice bellowed through the door wood.

"Quick! Call the R.A.! My roommate's gone berserk and I can't hold him much longer—!"

The back of Silver's head rammed into Jet's beak, which caused the hawk to recoil and hit the door. He lost his hold on Silver and held his beak. Blood leaked from a nostril.

"Hey! Hey, man, open the door! Let us in!" another male cried, banging on the wooden partition.

Jet gasped for breath. A shaky hand clambered towards the door's top lock. His eyes were stuck on Silver, who had rearmed himself with a ballpoint pen. Bewildered, Jet froze. "Hey…! Hold on, Silver! What're you…what're you gonna do with that?"

Pen clicks. Slow and intimidating. At first, they ticked with Silver's desk clock. But then, they got faster with each step that neared him.

"Jet? Jet, it's me, Ray! The R.A.'s on his way, but you've gotta get outta there!"

Eyes gawked wider, both frigid blues and menacing citrines. The white hedgehog's outline was traced with a spooky coppery gold. Sinister snickers lilted, a voracious tongue lapping both lips. The pen clicked faster.

"Jet, what's going on? Are you okay? What's Silver doing?"

The sunset had arrived.

"Jet? Jet?! C'mon, open the door!"

The flying squirrel's yelps were stricken with fear. But Jet's scream resounded through the floor's walls. Students on that entire floor, and perhaps at the landings one flight below and above, could hear it. It was an awful scream. A bloody murder scream. And it lasted a full minute. Gasps, screeches, and thumps filled the uneven intervals. Desperation marked the scratching against the door. The dormitory's Resident Advisor made his way to the door, with a pair of campus officers in tow. He flicked out the appropriate key and strained to unlock the door. The knob wiggled and jiggled, overshadowed by Jet shrieking, "Help me! Somebody, help me!"

The sunset lingered.

"Dammit, the door's jammed," the dorm assistant was trying to keep a level head.

"Step aside," one of the officers led him aside. He took hold of the knob and slammed his shoulder repeatedly against the wooden panel. Each strike was sturdy, concentrated on one spot—nearest the locking mechanism. But the door did not give way.

The events stirred the attention of other floor residents. Hearts pounded with anticipation and dread, eyes couldn't un-see the officer's failed attempts and ears couldn't un-hear the hawk's halfway crying. They couldn't ignore the maniacal laughter either. "Oh Lord, grant him mercy…" a seemingly devout gray chipmunk had fallen to his knees and prayed. "Save him! Save him, _please!"_

But the screams stopped. The laughter softened. The room still inaccessible.

"It feels like something's blocking the door…!" The officer was able to surmise upon noticing the slightest of gaps. "Good God, it looks like a dresser!"

"Silver! Silver, please! Open the door!" Ray pleaded, Mighty pulling him back. "Open it! Open it, goddammit!" Grieving tears rushed from his eyes.

"Ray?" Mighty's eyes couldn't look away. "You might not want that wish to come true anymore…!"

The battering officer's partner waved a crestfallen hand to them, sending them back. Some curious hall dormers were creeping up the stairs. Terrified by the bloodcurdling shrieks, they wanted to know what was wrong. Others, up- and downstairs, murmured between themselves. They spoke of the presences of a Resident Advisor and two security guards. They couldn't help shuddering from combined recollections of Jet's anguish. The boys on the same floor were already feeling an ominous air creeping in. Another Resident Advisor, supposedly absent from the second floor, arrived to team up with his fellow. Both attempted to keep the bystanders calm and collected by easing their minds, quelling their agitation.

* * *

The Tetrarch Chorus had wrapped up their conversation when Sonic caught sight of the second floor's R.A. dashing back up the staircase. Knuckles threw himself out of his chair, Shadow rose a bit more gently, alongside Espio. The Captain overheard fellow dormers murmuring, however he couldn't make out what was exchanged. But then, Espio's phone beeped: A warning tone. Triplicate double-beeps, a herald of foreboding. The chameleon had snatched up the device. And gawked at the words: "CAT 3 Evac: Exit Premises Immediately. Max. Distance: 450 ft."

* * *

The campus officers were trying to figure out how to get inside, retrieve Silver, and tend to Jet. Soon, they realized how far out of their hands it all was. The second guard, a sun-bronzed coyote, recommended the motion to notify Security's chief officer, which his partner agreed. As the slimmer guard radioed in, the more stoutly badger inspected the lock. He knelt down, but stiffened at the movement just beyond. Broken scrapes preceded a heavy thud. Then, another silence. The officer thought to knock, for some reason. Perhaps to lighten the situation's gravitas? He did: "Jet. Speak to me. Y'alright in there?"

"Jet can't hear you, sir."

He clenched his fist, snarling. The other boy's voice was so soft, it gave off a vibe of meekness. It was disturbing, disheartening. Downright insulting. "What've ya done, boy?!"

"I can't answer that, sir."

"Ya might as well come on out. More campus police are on their way. Yain't got that much time, boy. Now, c'mon outta there."

"Your thick Southern dialect annoys me, Sergeant. I would like to speak to someone more…easy on the ears."

At the badger's snarl, a slip of paper passed underneath the door's foot. He went frigid. The paper offered a question and a choice:

"Bring Me SONIC or SHADOW?

"BOTH."

Silver expected a check mark in the box for that single option. The officer had never seen such a forlorn scarlet, coming from a corrector's pen, ever in his life.

* * *

Police sirens wailed. Campus security had almost finished evacuating both Ulysses Andiron and Sagitta Artemisia Halls. The evacuation paths were preplanned and practiced almost religiously, there at Wilhelmshaven. A seriousness fell over the students and some leftover faculty. It was an ever truer and more surreal mantra, now: "It's better to be safe than sorry." Students were guided to multiple designated safe houses off-campus. Looking nothing like a bomb shelter, one facility was actually an abandoned outbuilding. It was Wilhelmshaven's original greenhouse lab. Now, the spacious greenhouse kept some students, male and female, huddled along the walls, bunched together, and left to murmur. The teachers there, serving as "teacher-sentinels," guarded them with their lives. Mrs. Swordshaw was one of them: The fierce-eyed silver fox kept a particular eye on Knuckles, Espio, Wave, and Rouge.

"Where are Sonic and Shadow?" Rouge gasped, looking to Knuckles. A hand was over her lips. She didn't want to show her tears, but scared bubbles threatened. Their voices had to stay soft, whispery. Knuckles snarled lowly, beating a fist against the tile. "I dunno. I think we got separated, but ain't neither of 'em textin' us…!"

Espio clasped his phone, eyes glued to the inactive touch-screen.

Wave's phone beeped, instead. A text message; probably the same one select teachers were receiving. As more authoritative members in the academic rung, there was no doubt in her mind that neither Sonic nor Shadow could ignore these messages. Tails was considered too vulnerable to handle such responsibility, so it was left to his older colleagues to handle.

"What the hell…?!" Wave knew, in her heart of hearts, that one of them was seeing the message, "CAT 3 Lockdown in Progress. Approximated Clearance: Within 30 mins."

Nothing came to Espio's phone; it didn't beep or flash. Just the wallpaper glowed. He and his crewmates, altogether, on vacation at an amusement park, in the summer. It had been years since Espio had been through an obstacle-course playground. Even longer since he challenged Sonic to beat his record of 1'59". Sonic's competitive smirk begot reminiscent laughter. A laughter he prayed he'd be able to hear again.

* * *

Sonic grunted in disgust, in shame. He couldn't ignore the first things he spotted: Higher-up campus guards and blood slowing into a small puddle. He insisted Shadow to stay back, in case something drastic happened.

But Shadow clearly rebelled. "What're you, crazy?! Security wants us away from there! Don't go against their orders, or else—!"

"Babe. Please. Just stay back, I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't! You can't possibly know what you're doing! Dammit, I knew this kid was a—!"

"Shadow. Don't even." Without looking back, the gravity in Sonic's tone intensified. He showed the President a protective hand. "I've dealt with people like this before. The last thing I need you to do is jeopardize Silver's, _and this school's,_ safety, Shadow." He could feel Shadow's shock silencing him. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Babe. Just let me handle this."

Shadow snarled, throwing his face away. Gingered rubies gleamed nervously. 'Handle this with care, you idiot. If you do anything reckless, I swear to God…!' His own phone had flashed the same warning.

With campus guards surveying him, Sonic knocked on the door. There was a purposely placed pause. Sonic wanted to gauge Silver's mental state via reflex. Testing the waters, he waited for an immediate response—maybe a gasp or sudden movement. But nothing came; a sign that the boy was still in a disorderly mental state. Sonic let out a sigh.

"…Is that you, Vice-Captain?" came the meek but distraught voice.

"Yes, Silver, it's me." Sonic didn't want to waste any time. He glared at the blood creeping closer to his shoe's sole.

"You're not alone."

"No, I'm not."

"That disappoints me. I'm sure it's Campus Security out there with you. Sergeant Kerrison's voice annoys me the most. But your voice, Sonic…is sweet, gentle, manly and robust."

"My voice is anything _but _those things, Silver. Look: What you did was unnecessary and tragic. I'm sure Jet's dead in there. This is his blood at my feet, we all know that! We're not stupid!" An ire simmered in his voice. "You think you're so needy that killing an innocent student—your roommate _and _friend—will make us give you our attention? Well, one thing was right about that: You did get our attention. And another thing you've proven to me, this school, and the police coming in right now"—Golden flickers waved across the door.—"is that you are _far worse _than any attention whore I have ever encountered. In my whole life."

There was nothing Silver could say in retaliation. He did not speak or move, according to the lack of noise. There was silence on the other side. Jet's blood had stopped pooling, blocked by Sonic's sneakers, and started to stain the floor, now. Sonic was sure local authorities would quarantine that room. They and Wilhelmshaven administrators would make it permanently inaccessible. Possibly rebuild a new Ulysses Andiron Hall, and be forced to demolish the current one.

Who knew such a big scar would be left on such a prestigious entity? By such a small, insignificant "nobody," no less?

"I was expecting kinder words from you, Vice-Captain."

Sonic's eyes sharpened. Silver's vision of him couldn't be any farther off the mark, could it?

"You're losing your cool. In a situation like this? Well, I suppose anybody could…even you." A testiness had entered his voice, now. "I thought you were different. You weren't like these other lambs-to-the-slaughter, Sonic the Hedgehog. I thought you were one-of-a-kind, unique, nothing like the others! You betrayed me, Sonic! You betrayed my trust, my _love!_"

Shadow was caught off guard by the auspicious comment. Shaking his head in confusion, he had to make sure what he understood translated from what he heard. 'What the hell is wrong with this kid…?!'

"You were the one who encouraged me, and got me to believe in myself…and now, high school's twisted your mind, your judgment and dreams! You gave me hope, but what are you now?! A hopeless, hapless romantic that can woo anyone with connections, good looks, and money into getting you whatever you want—and giving it to you for free! The three B's to this messed-up society: Beautiful, bourgeoisified, and banking—just like you, Mr. President."

Fangs gritted. Guilty tears didn't want to fall.

"You're wrong, Silver."

A few tears flew from Shadow's eyes, his ears swapping themselves, and his head, forward again. A darkness had clambered into Sonic's voice. It was still calm, a tad shaky, yet strong and seething.

Fists tightened. "You are dead wrong."

Something in Shadow dithered. And the black hedgehog felt it immediately.

"Then why else would you be in love with him?! He's nothing but a stuck-up bastard that aims to please all the adults and humiliate all the kids! He hates anybody he thinks is beneath him, and he ignores everybody on the same level as him! You shouldn't be in love with some douchebag like him! He doesn't make sense—your relationship with him doesn't make sense!"

There was a sudden _bam!_ against the door. Concentrated, forceful, swift. With one jab, Sonic dented the maple door. Cracks, tiny wooden shards, erected from the impact. But the blue hedgehog was unfazed.

"Y'know who's making even _less _sense right now?"

Shadow had flinched, taking shelter behind the coyote officer's shoulder. Who shielded him, while responding to someone via radio. He caught on to waspish murmurs akin to "He's in the _next _window…"; Shadow shivered, looking away. More tears wobbled from his eyes.

"Heh, fine. Since you're too reluctant to answer, I'll say the shit for you. And you won't answer because you know it's _you." _The fist jabbed into the panel tightened. Pain was the last thing on Sonic's mind, apparently. "You don't know a damn thing about me or Shadow, Silver. So, you have _no _right to speak out of term regarding either of us, because if you were some bitch-ass loser on the street saying that shit to me…I would murder you."

Shadow's heart sank into his stomach. Sergeant Kerrison signaled his partner to move Shadow back. As quiet as a mouse, he unsheathed his small handgun. The coyote guardsman led Shadow away, with the older teen clinging to his uniform like a frightened child. Deep grayish-green eyes beheld the fist trembling on his sleeve.

"You may think you're totally badass for killing Jet, but heed my words, you little pissant…" An irate tenor slithered under dark-green, near-soulless irises. "I can fuck you up so badly that Jet's body would be considered 'in good condition' by the time his funeral rolls around. I can beat you bloody, _with my bare hands_, motherfucker. I'm not afraid of you. So, speak outta line with me or Shadow again; _I dare you."_

"You're such a brute."

The irritated vein in Sonic's temple bulged a little.

As Silver's struggled to move the dresser from in front of the door, he continued: "I never would've imagined such a terribly violent nature coming out of you, Sonic the Hedgehog. I guess I shouldn't be any more disappointed than I am already…since I'm like you: A cold-blooded murderer." Legs screeched along the floor's maple. "I don't think I'm 'badass' in the slightest, Sonic. But you've made yourself sound like one. Bravo, I'm shaking in my high-tops."

"You taking on my dare, Quicksilver?"

A moment passed. Sonic brought his fist out of the wood dent. Splinters stuck in his knuckles, a pain still ignored. Jet's blood ruined the rich maple stain with its own. Shadow was handed over to the Campus Security chief, a lady red squirrel—whose coat was darkening—with an officer's cap and a dry smile. She nodded to the coyote, who snuck out a pistol of his own. Shadow wanted to stop him, but the chief guardswoman slapped a palm over his mouth. "Stay still, _bambino_." Her whisper was motherly, stern, and a bit frightened.

The door opened. Quietly. Both subordinate officers readied themselves. Their aims undeniable, pointed at either side of Silver's abdomen. "Be careful, Sonic," the coyote barked. "Don't try anything crazy."

"I won't, Officer Washburn…unless you count this."

Before the younger boy's eyes fully faced him, the last thing they saw was Sonic's fist. The reflexive move knocked the white hedgehog out instantly. The sidewinder to the face had so much force, the boy spun before hitting the floor. Surely it was enough to crack his jaw, maybe break a tooth or two. But both guards moved in cautiously, and apprehended the frenzied teen. More police converged on the dorm room to investigate the crime scene and verify Jet's death. An ambulance wasn't far behind.

The sixteen-year-old archer was dead, indeed: He had no chances of surviving twenty-six stab wounds, each planted strategically near some major blood vessels. Like the coronary arteries and the left jugular vein. One even managed to puncture the crook of the neck. The blood splatters reached up the door and speckled the ceiling. More noticeable spots were the floor, Silver's clothes and bed sheets, the dresser, and the underside of Silver's bed. From where the police extracted the carelessly hidden corpse.

Cuffed and unconscious, Silver's limp form was transported downstairs. Sonic didn't move too far from where he was. Jet's blood bothered him. Silver's deranged glee and sense of self-righteousness angered him. He wished he did beat that boy bloody.

But he knew Shadow would've disapproved it. Out of fear. Out of frustration. And simply because he didn't want the light of his life to be darkened by such terrible, brutal wrath.

**_Épisode VI _**Set…

* * *

JunAegileus777: Now, before _any_one says _any_thing...for those who weren't cool with this chpt, I WARNED YOU.

But for those _were_ okay with this chpt...yeah. Silver-baby snapped like a twig. And Sonic's truer colors are starting to bleed through...and Shadow's not as mentally strong as you thought, is he? Knuckles is somewhat pissed by all this, Espio won't say much about it, and the Student Council is working as a correspondence system amongst the Student Body? Poor Wave and Rouge are worried sick, Jet's dead, and Ray and Mighty are nervous wrecks. How can all this commotion possibly settle...on the brink of Halloween? Well, I don't wanna say too much here, so feel free to stop by my forum (on my profile page) if you feel like discussing more things.

I'll see ya when I see ya. In the meantime, relax & review, please!


	11. Épisode VII

**WARNING:**** Moderate depictions of violence, strong language, and ideologically sensitive subjects ahead.**

**CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

* * *

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode VII"_

Wilhelmshaven was restless. Now a bit over a week away from Halloween weekend, Academy students were too unsettled by the events of the days prior to be excited about it. The Student Council had been planning a Murder Mystery Banquet—(how ill-fated)—but now hung in limbo about the half-made plans. Tails was very upset by those events, but was able to compromise the work put into the Banquet thus far. He was able to convene with his fellow Councilmen, insisting Shadow to allow Espio the Chameleon in on the meeting. The school Costume Designer had become severely discouraged by the actual murder to continue his project. And since it was his and Tails' idea, Shadow reasoned to allow Espio's input about the new plan.

"Yeah, umm…what we originally had planned was a Murder Mystery Banquet, half-stage play and half-dinner. But…I don't think either would have a positive affect on the students, as we are now. Everyone's still uneasy about the whole ordeal…"

Shadow remained stoic and attentive, even though, in his heart of hearts, he was a bit shaken up by it, too. For now, he kept his eyes on Tails, instead of Sonic.

"So, my compromise…is…a…?" Apparently, Tails' compromise wasn't as well-planned as he thought it was. "Ahh, I guess since Espio had the creator's notes and already made some design models…!" A click of brilliance. "We could do a fashion show! We can let volunteers try on costumes that Embroidery students had made, and catwalk to a few Halloween tunes! It could be like a mini-competition! Although, Espio's work might have to be barred…!" The Freshman fox caught the Senior chameleon bubbling a cheek. "But I-I've got an alternate plan for that, too!" he tossed in, throwing a hand to the back of his head.

"I positively _love _the idea of a Halloween-esque fashion show," Rouge purred. "I have an idea of what _I'd_ like to strut in…" Her snicker was sneering, mischievous.

"I believe it to be unnecessary to even attempt guessing what it would be, Secretary Rouge," Treasurer Wave the Swallow chirred, poking berylline glasses higher onto her beak.

"Espio's designs won't go to waste: The Tetrarch Chorus can show them off! Maybe we can even combine powers…! With the help of the administrative office, we could use the P.A. System for "Runway Announcements," to let students know when the Tetra-Core are on the move and accepting votes! I have so many ideas, you guys…!" Twinkling sparkles filled the boy's eyes. Espio kept track of all of them with lightning-fast fingertips and the ever-reliable FreeWrite program on his Smartphone. Of course, once all the ideas spewed out, Tails would need to trim them down. Streamlining, with the help of Espio, Rouge, Wave, Sonic, and Shadow, was sure to be a breeze.

Tails nodded in great accomplishment as Espio verified a successful recording. They exchanged a cute thumbs up. Rouge sashayed over and looked over some of those notes; she made an unpleasant face. "Witch_doctor, _but no witch? Ugh, of course you'd exclude such a fierce and alluring occult figure! _I'm _going to have to fix that!"

Suddenly griping and snobbish, Rouge snatched up Espio's phone and swaggered around the room, tapping out details and editing major components. Both Tails and Espio stalked after her, who lured them 'round and 'round the executive table. "Miss Rouge, give that back! It's Espio's—he needs it!" But Rouge kept moving, humming and huffing at things she liked and disliked, respectively. "Mm…Knuckles as the witchdoctor? And Wave as a ghostly countess? Me likey~!" A blush had stained her cheeks, as her bat wings took her feet off the ground and twirled her around. "Miss Rouge, please, watch for the chairs…!" Tails begged, he and Espio still tailing her.

Wave let out another irritated chirr. An ill-mannered blush of her own had permeated into her cheeks.

"I'm gonna get some air."

Sard-tinted sky-blue irises followed the blue hedgehog. A near-soundless departure. He moved past the corners of Tails, Espio, and Rouge's eyes. Without the President stopping him. Not even to reprimand his unauthorized leave. Wave considered to do it in his stead. Though, something stopped her.

'Something must've happened then…?' She remembered the Class 3 Lockdown alert she had received. 'Those two were the only ones not evacuated. The murder's minutia is spotty, elusive, but judging by the Co-Presidents' temperaments…?'

A quiet "clack" echoed throughout the Student Council room. Tails, Espio, and Rouge were tangled in a vying knot when they noticed Sonic was missing. "Huh? Big Bro?" Tails blinked rapidly. "Where'd he run off to? It's not like him at all," Rouge whined a little. "…Shadow?"

The President said nothing, signaled nothing, in return. It was hard to tell what he was thinking; even Espio had trouble sometimes. And the only one who seemed to read him the easiest had up and left.

Wave's brows sank by a slightness. 'Neither of them are happy with it…nor each other?' She couldn't read her boss's face from the angle he was sitting at. 'Did something happen…between those two?'

But she could tell the day wasn't going to go smoothly. At all.

* * *

Wilhelmshaven Academy's Second Period had begun. World History: Not a very well-liked or disliked subject to most students. It was interesting to realize what the rest of the world was doing beyond just the Nation's prideful tricolors. And Mr. Kingman wasn't too bad of a teacher. He knew his stuff, well enough for the lessons to be fun and pop quizzes to be hilarious. But a more somber note was taken that day. Mr. Kingman was uncharacteristically humdrum. The gravitas of the previous weeks' events was taking its time sinking into everybody's psyches. He never knew the troubled, murderous Junior Classman personally. So he couldn't make a clear, unbiased judgment on him. The black fox's wintering coat was a stunning distraction for the girls in his class.

It appeared the window was a better distraction for Sonic the Hedgehog, however.

"Sonic?"

Bleary jades met crisp slates. He figured out what was coming.

"Can you repeat what I just said?"

Judging by the balance of pages in the World History textbook, Sonic guessed it had something to do with the Fourth Great Civilization. Not completely sure, he hummed. A bit dully. Mr. Kingman could see question mark bubbles popping all over the Blue Blur's head.

"Well, I see your brain's farting on you," the teacher sighed at him. Snickers chittering in the background, he went on to say, "Never mind. Just pay attention, and talk to me after class, Sonic. No pressure. Anyway, moving right along…"

Sonic's brain didn't let him say anything. Coherent or otherwise. Let down by missing the chance, he thumbed to the right page in the text and tried to focus. One thing he didn't like about school were the tortuously long days. Each class, including Brunch-laden Fourth Period, had a forty-five-minute lesson time. Despite being contrary to many other public schools, Sonic still thought the schooldays were lengthy. Especially the school he attended before Wilhelmshaven, anyway.

A twinge. It was fluttering in Shadow's stomach, as he sat two rows across from Sonic. Even though it looked like Sonic had taken the commentary well, Shadow could feel an underhanded irritation. Normally, Sonic would laugh it off. This time, strangely, he looked peeved; apparently by his lack of focus, and Mr. Kingman's acknowledgement thereof. Knuckles caught Espio's worried glance; he shook his head, as if to say "we can't worry about it right now." But the slightly older echidna and chameleon kept an eye on both teenage lovers.

* * *

"Does Sonic seem a bit…_distracted _to you, Mr. Pres?"

One for classic exquisiteness, Secretary Rouge the Bat was working at the delicately restored Blickensderfer Electric typewriter atop her desk. Due to its exceeding rarity, and birth in the earliest years of the 20th Century, the model was known as one of the "miraculous three." Its surviving sister models were rumored to be somewhere in a university town in a different country. How they got so far away was beyond Rouge. Nevertheless, the electric typewriter was Rouge's baby. She did everything she could to know how to use it, and especially take care of it. A retired Languages teacher in her advanced years, Mrs. Colby, personally bequeathed the device to her. And for reasons not-just-selfless, Rouge vowed to take care of it.

She was typing up an advertisement draft for the fashion show. Nimble talons peck-, peck-, pecked away. Her librarian's eyeglass holder wobbled, grim fuchsia beads ricocheting the afternoon sunlight as she tilted them further onto her nose. "I mean, he's been awfully cross ever since that Silver incident." The carriage return bell tolled: _Ching!_ Her reluctant turquoises awaited a response. "He hasn't gotten over it, has he?"

"Of course, he hasn't. How could he?" Shadow snapped, flicking open a copy of the school newspaper. "That mental nutcase has sensitized the entire school district, _not _just Wilhelmshaven. District-wide policies upheld by the chief administrators will be changed because of him. The grounds will undertake even _stricter _security measures, now. It's going to rouse paranoia in the student body, I'm sure of it." But glazed cherries couldn't focus too well. "No one was expecting an incident like this. Never, in Wilhelmshaven's one hundred-fifty years of _existence,_ has something like this happened. And despite how well it was handled…" His eyes darkened. Somber, almost scared. "…We didn't need to get involved." He threw down the article he had glanced over. The front-page spread featured police tape—more than one "Do Not Cross" barring the front gates—arranged in front of Ulysses Andiron Hall's façade. He threw himself out of his executive's chair and quietly stormed out of the room. "_He _didn't need to get involved." The last remark came before an ungraceful _Ka-clack!_

Rouge's hands froze. Mid-sentence and mid-thought. Something had finally come in between the couple she supported so fervidly. The wedge was unsightly and immovable, as of that moment. She knew Shadow was upset by it. She'd never seen him so aggravated before. A worried, embittered sigh hummed past gold-stuck lips, through gritting teeth.

Just under the picture was: "Taken by Amy Rose, Freshman Photojournalist."

* * *

Both Brunches had passed. Urania's Watch was preparing to strike the second hour past noon. And Shadow was waiting for Sonic inside the Study Hall. Fifth Period had just ended and both hedgehogs' classes were dismissed from the Science Wing. Shadow figured he'd go on ahead, since Sonic was obviously having trouble that day; he didn't want to exacerbate it by nagging at him, like his teachers had done already. Maybe Sonic wanted some alone time? To process everything? Should he be waiting for him—should he not worry about it? It was unlike Sonic to be late, though.

Textbooks and stippled compositions soon littered Shadow's desk-table. Thankful for the tabletop room he had, he thought to arrange them by class. 'Maybe he's already in the Conservatory? He just needs some time alone…I'll be here if he needs me.'

From pencil and paper to worksheets later, Shadow noticed time had passed. The security in his regard for Sonic's alone time was beginning to waver. Despite the fact that he'd breeze through his Astronomy packet, and nearly finished with the assigned World History readings, an unsettling quiver swayed his assuredness. It was a nervous, daunting quiver. It gave him the feeling something bad was about to happen. Like Sonic getting into an altercation, with a teacher or another student.

Or worse.

'He should've at least let me know if he's alright,' annoyance seeped into Shadow's nervousness. His grip on his pencil shook. 'A courtesy wave through the door would've been nice…!' came as he looked out said door.

No people. No shadows. No movement. The breeze from the outside chilled the Study Hall. A trio of other students were chatting quietly about quadratic formulae; obviously, an underclassman Algebra class. Also, a different student was there, a Junior Classman sleeping, apparently. The teacher at the front was extremely laidback, too. "I don't care if ya work, chat, or sleep. Heck, I wouldn't have cared if you texted or played video games," Shadow remembered the teacher guffawing on the first day. "Only those last options are barred, for obvious reasons," he added, tacking on a playful grin. "Just make sure you're not too loud. I don't wanna get busted by the school feds neither, ya get me, kiddies?" Defensive hands waved, and it sent some students into giggle-snort-chuckle fits.

But now, the teacher seemed more attentive than ever. Silver's psychotic episode really did affect Wilhelmshaven. Normally dozing himself, the speckled jackal scanned the faces beyond his desk. Brown scopes took note of each student.

"Jeez, what do you think happened? You know, to make that guy snap?"

Questions were finally rousing. And this one came from the Algebra trio, an intimidated male. Shadow went on with his studying, ignoring the conversation. But more in-depth questions were starting to get asked.

"You don't think he really _is _psycho, do you?" the nerve-wracked girl next to him wondered. "He didn't seem all there a lot of the time. I've never had class with him, but he'd hobble, like an old man, to class sometimes…"

"Maybe he _is _crazy, like the Upperclassmen say," a last boy tilted his glasses onto his nose. "And I heard…"

Shadow's grip was a vice.

The boy had waved his talk-mates closer. He whispered on, "…it had something to do with the Tetrarch Chorus members. Namely Sonic and Shadow."

The gray shell on Shadow's mechanical pencil cracked. Soon after did the chair feet scrunch against the sunny woodgrain. The wood-on-wood screech startled the students, and made the Hall's monitor dart his attention to it. His eyes narrowed a bit, at the sight of the Student Council President's loud rise.

"May I borrow the hall pass please, Mr. Deming?"

Shadow's question sounded stiff. "You sound awful stern. Something wrong?"

"No. I just need to use the restroom."

Mr. Deming shrugged. "Well, you still sound pretty stern for 'just needing to use the restroom,' there…?" In big capital letters, "Hall Pass" graced the somewhat large wooden bar. It facilitated the easy exchange between the monitor and the Council President. "Since this _is _Study Hall, there's no need to rush back. Take your time, Kid-Pres." He hadn't quite let go of it. The sharp tug made Shadow blink at him. "Do be careful, too. Okay?" he tagged on a careful wink.

A cautiousness in Mr. Deming's mahoganies re-sensitized the teenager.

* * *

Shadow also remembered that the passes came in pairs for almost every room in the school, each permitting one student to leave at a time. The time limit depended on which room a student left from: For instance, a typical classroom's pass allowed seven minutes of absence before a student needed to return. In Study Hall's case, two factors allowed a student an indefinite time limit: 1) the student's destination, and 2) the color of the pass. As long as they returned it to the Study Hall, wherever a student was going didn't matter. It could range from the restroom to the Nurse's or Counselor's office. Understandably, Wilhelmshaven didn't allow students to aimlessly wander the corridors or leave the premises. So Shadow had to establish a travel route, to make it look like he had someplace to go.

Lazy green was perfect for Study Hall. It was pretty much a "freebie" Pass in the school. The only one, as a matter of fact, along with its mate. Its matching lanyard hugged Shadow's wrist, as he traveled up the Rialto Corridor. Classrooms lined his right side, while windows lined his left. September had come and gone so quickly, and ended on such a sobering, frightful note. The semester was that much closer to being over, that much more water under the bridge. But the bridge had a gap, now—a scary, fragile gap. Shadow on one side, Sonic on the other.

Silver was the gap itself. Broken and irreparable. Cracking slowly, more and more.

At Atelier II's placard, Shadow stopped. He was remembering something Silver had said in that tragedy's midst.

_ "I thought you were different. You weren't like these other lambs-to-the-slaughter, Sonic the Hedgehog…"_

Soft music lilted under the door. A teacher's instruction chirped like a metronome for the dancers inside. The green pass swayed with the timing.

_ "You betrayed me, Sonic! You betrayed my trust, my _love!_"_

Remembering it was bad enough. The context, the person saying it, the object of it all—it bothered Shadow. To a heavy extent. 'His "love"? That kid's delusional! Sonic was _never _in love with him! How could he be?! And he'll _never _be in love with him, either…because…!'

_He didn't want me to be alone._

_Those eyes. Such courage they showed…_

His boots wandered on. A hand rested upon a railing post. Brazen yet clearly antiquated, tender fingers smoothed over the guardrail. Aglaia's Stairwell coaxed him downward. But waited till the decision was made. Afternoon gleams bounced around the downward spiral. Into worried carmines, as the other more frightened hand clutched his chest.

"My heart is already his."

* * *

Relaxation hadn't come easily to Sonic the Hedgehog. He tried to snooze, but his mind was too active. Recounting events in recent, and not-so-recent, history. Buzzing bees hovered from flower to flower for one last round before autumn's chill settled in. Leaves still turning, October was only the tip of autumn. By Allhallows, leaves would be falling; by Yuletide, they'd be gone. Looks like the Greenhouse Sanctuary lost its sense of "sanctuary".

Donning a red racer jacket, baggy sweats, and plain black T-shirt, Sonic rocked out of his recline and hopped to his feet. Another breeze. Tree leaves, grass blades wobbled. Sixth Period would chime its end soon, Sonic surmised. So, he proceeded out the door. Lacking in focus, Sonic's hand tried to find a good hold on one of the dual handles.

"Ugh, this sucks. I'm so used to napping around this time, I feel miserable if I don't," Sonic complained. "I didn't report to Study Hall at all. I'm sure Shadow's peeved at me for it…?" He scratched between his head quills. "He might've finished up in his homework, but…I thought he'd make his way down here, at some point…?"

His eyes leered along the floor. Scalloped wood edging reminded him of the ocean.

_He looked so lonely there._

_No kid should be crying during recess…_

He bit his lip. "He's gotta be freaking out by now. I wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way…down…here?"

White-and-red sneakers paused. Hands were brought to his sides. Soon after, they were fists.

_ Spotlights homed in on the blue hedgehog. Soft synthetic tinkling, bluesy rhythms set the mood._

Those rough-and-tough bullies from the cafeteria decided to rear their ugly heads again. Sonic was alone, and he was aware of the disadvantage he had if they decided to try anything. Green eyes narrowed in simmering agitation. They arrived five strong. He knew he couldn't keep all of them back. Their uniform jackets didn't need to be worn, much less in such a disrespectful way. The sleeves would surely crinkle from their ties around their waists.

The waist-bound blazers were a sign: They were fisticuffers.

_ Fabulously sporty, Sonic rocked his blue denim, adding silver chains and bracers here and there. He had rolled up his pants legs—Espio tacked them, so they wouldn't fall—for a more laidback look. Artsy white-and-red sneakers glittered under the stage lights. Girls swooned over the makeover. But that didn't really matter to him._

"What are you guys doing here?"

Somehow, another first-in-command had been established in the group. Sonic figured it must've happened sometime before the incident with Bean the Duck. Nods bobbed amongst the assumed leader's "cohorts", signaling a consensus. A rough-looking mongoose approached Sonic boldly. In a hairdo stylistic to a relaxed mohawk, his eyes burned like Sonic's temper, sending an instant flare of readiness into the hedgehog's bloodstream. His fiery-orange coat sharply contrasted Sonic's blue ocean. So did his impatient copper eyes.

Sonic stood his ground. "What business do you have here? Get back to class."

"Funny you should say that, Mr. Vice-Pres, since you're not in the right line to." His flaming tail's charred tip shivered with the sways. "But you do bring up a valid question, and I'll be happy to answer: Ya see, our business…is to confront _you._"

Sonic's eyes flared.

_ There was just one; there could be only one._

"And, possibly, your pansy-ass _boyfriend,_ too. If he shows, that is…!" Chittering snickers leapt out, alongside four others'.

Sonic continued holding, even with the other four members stalking around him. Seething slowly, he didn't regard the light caress of the mongoose's palm. It soon turned into a grapple on his sweatshirt's hood. The sharp tug made Sonic snarl. "No. Don't you touch him. I'm your target, so deal with me."

"But your boyfriend's the one who put us on blast, and got those rent-a-cops involved." Vengeful glee forced a smirk. Copper irises burrowed into Sonic's dread. "But if _you _wanna compensate for _his _beat down…then, by all means…!"

A fist came soaring toward Sonic's face.

_ 'Oh, you know…_

_ 'You know what to say—_

_ 'Say "I love you"…'_

_ Sonic's voice was heartwarming, almost sultry. His body moved on its own. Bobbing, sashaying, popping and locking. He grooved with the music. Accented lyrics were sung perfectly, in a voice he promised to hone a skill for. Not just for then, but for later on._

_ 'Oh, I think you've gotta know right away,_

_ '"Maybe me, too"…?'_

_ Starlights shot across the house ceiling. The girls sighed at the romantic atmosphere._

_ 'You!_

_ 'You are a nice, cool breeze in me…'_

_ Fingers snapped in the shape of a star. Sneakers walked in reverse._

_ 'I feel you blowing in—_

_ 'I can feel the sunlight all around me…'_

Shadow passed through the junction between the Primrose and Gulden Corridors. On the first floor now, he made his way to Urania's Conservatory. The class bell would surely startle him, since he'd lost track of time after arriving on said floor. But a hall clock was able to tell him: 2:38.

But then, Shadow caught sight of a horrific scene. Only a few steps in and Shadow was paralyzed. Eyes bucked in disbelief and fear, the Hall Pass lanyard lost its grip around his wrist. The wooden clack fell short of earshot.

A beating was in progress. Sonic didn't want to fight back, so he curled up to better his defense. His spines tore at the passel's tough denim legs, but the kicks and stomps were proving themselves effective. The leader had thrown himself on top of Sonic, and proceeded to pummel him. Face, chest, back, stomach, whatever his fists could connect to. All five of them had swamped the blue hedgehog.

And all Sonic could do was vainly shield his head.

"Oh my…oh my God! Sonic!"

Instinct threw Shadow forward. He disregarded any attention it may have caught. "Get away from him!" and "Leave him alone!" spewed from his lips. Like it was second nature. But he was never the one to say them, he remembered suddenly.

The gingered mongoose caught on to Shadow's plea. Mid-punch, he threw his chin over at his approach. Soon enough, two of the beaters turned their attention to him.

"Stop it! Let him—Ah!"

Both arms bound, Shadow gasped at how fast they had apprehended him. Taut grips strained Shadow's shoulder muscles. They made him kneel, breaking balance in his knees. Haughty chuckles snipped at Shadow's ego, exacerbating his fear; scared crimsons wobbled. "Let…him go…please!"

"Well, if ain't the Pres himself, _gracing _us with his presence…!" one of the restrainers chuckled into an ear. His partner did the same, "Yeah, looks like he came, after all…just in time for the finale."

"What're you doing to him?! Leave him alone!"

Shadow's screaming alerted the classrooms along the wall. Door clacks made all the ruffian students more aware of Campus Security's arrival. The leader managed to get in one more punch before sneaking a glance at a male teacher hiding in an alcove. A phone-like device was at his ear; he must've been calling Security.

He clicked his tongue. "Rent-a-cops will be here soon. Ah well. Least I had some fun…right, Sonic?" He threw down the hedgehog's hood, threw himself into a stand, and kicked the side of his victim's head. For assurance. He sneered at Shadow's struggling, teary eyes, and frightened expression. With cold coppers, he told his cohorts, "Knock his ass out. We're outta here."

Sonic's head had hit the marble floor. His quills ruffed, jacket imprinted with dirt, and bruises on his back, arms, face, and head. He was out like a light; he didn't even hear Shadow trying to intervene.

"Sonic? Sonic?!" Shadow cried out to his unconscious lover. "Can't you hear me? Sonic! Sonic, wake up! Wake up—Please!"

One cheek was more swollen than the other, although the latter bore a darkening bruise. No shiners were visible, yet. And it wouldn't be much of a surprise to Sonic if he woke up to a couple of cracked teeth. Blood trickled from where those shoe soles grazed his flesh, as well as his nose and mouth.

"Sonic, help! Save me! _Save me!"_

A startled yelp filled the Gulden Corridor. Then, Shadow's body crashed to the floor. Even in unconsciousness, he fell like a fainting prima donna. Nothing more came to hurt him, for the passel of five made a break for a nearby exit. Luckily, Security was on the way, thanks to the hidden teacher.

That same science teacher came out, checked the hall, noted the closing exit doors, and dashed over to see to Sonic and Shadow. As if he'd done something akin to it all his life, the science teacher turned Sonic onto his back, placed a thumb on his wrist, and listened to his chest. He furrowed his brows, leopard tail slithering uneasily.

Campus guards ran up to the scene and flocked around the fallen Student Council executives. "Are they alright?" one of them spat out. Radio in hand, he looked both students over, as well.

The Science Wing schoolchildren looked on in shock and apprehension. Most of the girls held hands over their mouths; the guys made anxious faces. A few other teachers tried their best to keep them calm and rational. One of the female teachers listened in, as the Security officer and teacher-sentinel exchanged information and instruction. She was able to pick "Contact the Nurse's Office" out of their conversation. Then, forlornly, eyed the two Seniors. Witnessing on-site treatment being administered set the tone for the girls crying beside her.

"Captain Russino, we've apprehended the delinquents connected to the assault. They are five in total, all male, ages ranging from 16 to 18, Ma'am."

"Very good. Let my guys know about this, specifically Lieutenant Adam Colchester." Levelheaded and professional, the same lady officer from the Silver incident took note of her environment. Higher up on the Security's chain of command, her deep blue eyes wandered over to Shadow. At first glance, he didn't appear to be in imminent danger.

Sonic, on the other hand, needed immediate medical attention.

"Jung, request an ambulance for two victims: Set priority to Code Orange for Sonic the Hedgehog, seventeen-year-old male hedgehog, suffering from multiple impact wounds—epidermic and dermic. He is bleeding minimally and unresponsive…"

As she narrated, a Nurses' Aide unit had arrived, and were preparing to move Shadow and Sonic. She seemed to know a lot about the Vice-President. Her umbering red tail flinched at the sight of his injuries. A small bloodstain was cleaned up quickly. She lowered her eyes a moment. 'Hoh, _bambino_…' her mind sighed.

Oddly, just before the Aides began their transport, Captain Russino noticed the boys' hands. She didn't want to think she was imagining it; in fact, she refused.

_ His silly grin came with a beckoning hand. One he swore was only meant for him. Pure love filled the space between sincere jades and enamored rubies._

_ …'You're shining.'_

It'd be quite a cake topper to mention how "sad and lovely" it was to believe their hands were reaching out to each other. As unconscious as it was, devotion filled the moment. Who knew such an odd, unfortunate circumstance could elicit the purity in such a strong, enduring teenage love?

**_Épisode VII _**Set…

* * *

Quick Reference: Dream Dance Sequence - "You" (Original Vers.) by Kazami, _Samurai Champloo_.


	12. Sans Votre Égide Caesura

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

"Sans Votre Égide_ Caesura"_

Slow beeping sounds—_Bip…bip…bip._

White was everywhere. The beeping was oddly placed. It was amidst wind pushing through leaves, of bush and tree, and grass blades. A halcyon sun created an immense glare. It made everything pure. Almost imperceptible. It shined from a door-less frame, one without walls to brace it. That garden beyond looked familiar. As if from a shared past.

_ "Hey, you a'right?"_

Awakening crimsons met nervous jades. A much smaller Sonic was sighing in relief. But his fur was blanched, those eyes being the sole pieces of green perceived. Those red running shoes also stood out from the rest of his outfit.

The halcyon sunlight beamed. It flushed out a just-as-small Shadow's black fur, bleaching it as well. The dreamlike world made some things stand out; somehow, they were only things that were either red or green. Shadow's rubies popped, as did Sonic's emeralds. Even the sky was blank firmament with invisible clouds. But as a light source, shadows naturally played with the objects that stood: The door-less frame cast a shadow. So did the trees and bushes, the flowers and grass. Shiny cloud linings were actually a gradating black. Inky, insignificant shades.

Another breeze teased at the green scarf hugging Shadow's shoulders. The young hedgehog sat up slowly from the marble bench he reclined on. The eyes of the other boy made his own sparkle. Befuddled but intrigued, the much younger Shadow looked over a similar Sonic.

_ Bip…bip…bip! _The beeps hastened.

A grin had formed somehow. His tail wagged back and forth. Scuffs, cuts, and blood were noticeable. But the boy's snicker and head-scratch were all-too-coy.

There was a tiny flower stuck in that scarf. A gust made it fly away.

* * *

"_Why did you protect me?"_

His eyes shot open. The beeps had returned to their proper context. A white room; a lot more logical than whatever place Shadow had dreamt himself in. Shaky irises wandered over to the beeps' source. A small tabletop monitor: It was busy registering all his vital signs. Toning out safe, normal bodily pulses.

"They're both in uneasy states of mind. I'm sure Mr. Shadow was frightened by what he witnessed, but—"

People were talking just beyond the curtain. That one, whose voice faded suddenly, sounded very professional. A pair of tall ears flinched. Their head seemed to face his way, before facing further over the shoulder. A pause; it made Shadow's nerves fire off. A sense of dread had fallen over him. He didn't want to look that way. Something made him scared to.

"…the other young man, Mr. Sonic, is in much worse condition, physically. We were able to stop the internal bleeding sited in the nasolacrimal area. Other epidermic and dermic injuries have also been treated. His right eye has been moderately bruised, but the swelling and color should reduce within a little over a week. In the meantime…"

The doctor's fading diagnosis sounded worse than what it was to Shadow, for some reason. He had seen five boys pummel him—nearly to death. His mind was exaggerating its seriousness, surely, but Shadow's panic had blinded him from that observation. Complete terror had washed through him in that moment. His feet jettisoned him into harm's way, unthinkingly. Shadow didn't put into account that he never stood a chance against them. Sonic couldn't, so what made him think his odds were any better? His screaming only got him knocked out. He was helpless, useless. No wonder Sonic always told him to butt out of business like that.

"Sonic…?" Teary-eyed and weak-voiced, Shadow brought back the curtain partitioning himself from the room's other side. "Sonic…?!"

His condition hadn't changed. The Blue Blur was still unconscious, still unmoving. Still wordless, powerless. Helpless. A deep-purple crescent underscored the right eye patch. A pair of tubes strung between his nostrils and the respirator at his bedside. Another tube, sending a clear liquid from an overhanging pouch, coursed into his right hand.

Something amidst what Shadow saw and what he thought was not connecting.

The beeps spiked. And Shadow threw himself over the gurney's rail. Like a widow-soon-to-be.

* * *

The gust settled. Detached leaves flew through the doorway. Only the red ones could be seen. Shadow's green scarf was a snuggle spot for Sonic. The Blanched Blur nuzzled it from where he knelt. Careful arms were wrapped around his waist. Youngster tail happily wagged away. Relieved chuckles purred against the other boy's chest.

_ "You're okay, now…see?" _Sonic's grin made him look no older than nine.

Shadow's red mirrors looked so sad. Just like all those years ago. That same, tearful, lonesome glower. White dress shoes unknowingly brushed against a chartreuse jonquil.

_ "Without your aegis…where would I be, now?"_

"Sans Votre Égide"_ Caesura _Set…

* * *

Triple 7: Hey, guys. I've been missin' you! So I decided to post this Caesura a little early! A lot's gone down between the very beginning of this story up to now, huh? Well, prepare for even more backstory goodness! There're lots of hidden meanings and symbolism in this story, if you haven't noticed. It's gonna get deeper—therefore, darker—as we go, too. Sadly, in all honesty, I've already mapped out the general outlines of _all 3 books_; it just takes me forever to write. So, hopefully at most, each Book should be around 15-20 chpts, if you exclude the Caesurae. (They're not official chpts, technically.)

And so, here we are. Another sliver of Sonic and Shadow's past. Little Sonic's kinda beat up, though, and Little Shadow's still sad...

Quick Language Ref: _Sans Votre Égide - _French, "without your aegis" or without your protection


	13. Épisode VIII, Premier Arc

JunAegileus777: I just couldn't stay away! Happy (early) Halloween, everyone! So you don't get confused, this is "Part 1" of a three-chpt sequence. "_Arcs_" will be designated to such chpts, for future reference. And, without further ado...

**WARNING:**** Intense language and ideologically sensitive subjects, as well as minor depictions of blood, ahead.**

**CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

* * *

**_Mon Coryphée_**

_Book I, Mes Larmes_

_"Épisode VIII" - Premier Arc_

Even with the Halloween Special's Event Week going off without a hitch, Campus Security remained leery. Too-convincing costumes were barred from school entry. Students were advised to change into a less-assuming costume or be forced into their uniforms. Wilhelmshaven's Student Council was able to put together a "Spirit Week" prior to Halloween's start. And with Halloween being on a Thursday, Shadow had to wrap everything up in as neat a package as possible. Scheduling and special permissions were laid upon both Secretary Rouge and Treasurer Wave, who worked out the administrative and monetary kinks, respectively. Meanwhile, Tails appointed Amy Rose, Rouge the Bat, and Wave the Swallow to work alongside him in the advertising endeavors. Knuckles the Echidna had the perfect playlist, so he ran it by Director Vector and the Theatre Department before getting the "okay."

Costumes by aspiring Design students were modeled throughout the week, with all four Tetrarch Chorus members rocking them out loud. After each class's ending bell played loops of an interestingly familiar song from a movie soundtrack. It, in itself, had nothing to do with the October holiday, but it sounded "acoustically fitting" to Knuckles.

"Good morning, everyone! It's time to vote!" Tails and Amy Rose were taking turns on announcements. Showing her how it was done, Tails went up first. "Tetrarch Vice-Captain and Music Coordinator sighted! Students, report to the Science Wing's second floor to cast in your votes."

It felt like the White Vixen herself danced with the Chorus members: The boys worked in alternating pairs as they traipsed the Corridors. Vice-Capt. Sonic and M.C. Knuckles took over the school's west wing first thing that morning. Sonic wore his ballot box like a utility belt, while Knuckles wore his like a messenger bag. Fanged grins encouraged the students to vote for Sonic's vampire getup; even the eye patch was bat-shaped, instantly charming the girls. Knuckles seemed a little more passive, but there were others that were fond of his mummified pharaoh-look.

"Meanwhile, the Tetrarch Captain and Costume Manager have been sighted—at Thalia's Playground!"

Like showgirls, Cos. Mgr. Espio and Capt. Shadow hiked "Vote Here!" signs all over the campus, where students were asked to vote for whose designs would be "cast" as performance attire for Allhallows' Eve. Their "showgirl" outfits sent the fangirls into an envious rave. White with a silk stole, pearls, and 1920s glitz, Espio was too shy of his legs to show them off. A fellow Classman who designed that Asian tigress outfit took modesty into consideration—only to redirect attention to the strappy back. Espio let his "Vote Here!" rest as he fanned himself atop a marble bench. Showing off his back, coyly. A silent contest went on from the spectators' perspectives. Shadow's costume wasn't too different; only onyx and gold. The feathery boa that graced his neck and pair of golden opera glasses made him look all the more elegant. With sultry undertones, the show-guys would do pantomimes and make coy gestures at each other, to amp up the girl-crowds. Which worked.

"Afternoon has crept upon us, boos and ghouls!" Amy used a ghost's echo. Her normal voice sounded ecstatic. "And it's time to vote again! Tetrarch Co-Captains sighted! Tetrarch Music Coordinator and Costume Manager also sighted! Head on over to the Rialto Corridor and Cafeteria, respectively, if you haven't voted yet~!"

It sounded like Tails and Amy were having fun with the days' announcements, while Yuki-Onna Rouge and Countess Wave threw in their support, as well. Abashed by Rouge's out-of-costume fangirling, Wave saw her flap about crazily when Sonic—now rocking a Junior's Franken-Wolf costume and complementary eye patch—howled at Shadow's suggestive doll-like poses. The Captain donned a sexy Marionette-Warlock's half-suit, petticoat, and heeled lace-up boots. At a mechanical wave of his wand and broken magic words, Sonic would "transform"—alternating between carrying Shadow in his arms as Franken-Sonic, and letting him ride on his back as "Werehog"-Sonic. Wave was the only one who didn't favor the latter; she was more fond of Shadow giving Franken-Sonic a thankful smooch for "being gentle with him"—never outward about it, of course. The Franken-hog's aroused purrs and sneaky tail-wag were priceless.

Rouge and the other girls agreed: "They're so cute together~!"

Knuckles and Espio, on the other hand, weren't anywhere near as lovey-dovey. They wanted to model their costumes while fighting; staged, of course. Knuckles agreed to model as an interesting Witchdoctor-gone-to-Valhalla and set up a match against Espio, who played a Hospital-Nurse-from-GUN. The match was actually a series of innocent rounds of "Ninja." It mostly consisted of bouts where Knuckles would get distracted by Espio's thigh-high coat vents. Wily like a nurse-spy, toy syringes and smoke-pills were thrown to Knuckles' feet, with the Nordic witchdoctor shrieking from such unfairness. But he couldn't stay mad at the chameleon's "cute wink-coat tease" combo. After all the matches, a showcase of moves finished with a cane's cackling skull and a not-too-intimidating medicine tray.

The students in the hall clapped immensely, throwing their ballots into the slot-box they chose. "You guys rock!" packs of students had to cheer.

* * *

Wilhelmshaven Performing Arts Academy switched to their after-school assembly schedule for the sake of Halloween day. That Thursday was the busiest, but most anticipated, day on everyone's agenda to date. Director Vector, his assistant Charmy Bee, and his motley Maintenance Crew got down to business. Cues for audio, lights, stage, and curtain were in place. Scenery had yet to be revealed, but silent footsteps dashed with every necessary piece of stage equipment. Partners-in-mind Vector and Tails were doing a strange pseudo-psychic ritual prior to opening announcements. Trying not to get too distracted, a Theater technician reminded them to be onstage in less than two minutes.

"Understood!" the fox boy saluted. "Don't worry, we gotcha," Vector waved them off. Then, flicked his fingers over his temples. And together, they chanted, "Twin Link, Twin Link, Mind Sync!" then guffawed, "Go, Mind Control! Mwa-ha-hah!"

The tech never lost sight of the croc and his twin-tailed sidekick. Because their silliness was always questionable. "Y'all are weird," the observation came as plain as day.

Last-minute adjustments were made on the Tetrarch Chorus's costumes. The winners had the honor to help dress them backstage; Senior Classmen mingled with the pair of lucky Juniors as winners. A vibrant group, all were eager to fix buttons and suture ill-fitting hemlines. None of the Chorus seemed to mind. Espio smiled with approval the entire, completely in love with the Nurse-Agent costume. A rabbit girl with snowy curls had designed it, receiving good pointers from the chameleon as she tacked up some broken spots. She clapped, hopping up and down, when she finished, whereas Espio bowed to her in sweetest gratitude.

Faux fur was being added to Knuckles's Nordic Witchdoctor. The skull-and-bones details had made him more into a creepy pirate, so the feline sister-brother duo worked the fur into the ensemble. Brown was their best bet, but pancake powder would make it brighter onstage. The bird skull upgraded to that of a larger predatory one; surely more believable, now. Knuckles bobbed to the beat in his head, but the makeup artist applying his highlights had to tell him to keep still.

Franken-Sonic's torn lab coat was donned once again, as the winner in Spirit Week's costume design contest. Werehog-Sonic needed more scruffs of pancake to look more wolfish, so the girls ruffled their fingers through his head. Somehow, it tickled him immensely, and his sharp bellows of "Hey, stop!" and "Okay, that works!" made them giggle sneakily.

But an odd quiet fell over the Captain. Although the Marionette-Warlock costume won, something about it bothered Shadow. Theatrical blush felt heavy and thick, like a rag doll's, all of a sudden. Pancake would set the colors those oils smeared and the highlights those pencils carved. His face needed to be seen. But with the preparations came a niggling dread. His lips were getting lined when an awful thought finally gave itself form.

_ "I'm…almost at my limit, here."_

Shadow remembered that feeling again. The needless ovations, the overindulgent tears, the startling camera flashes, the unwanted applause. He remembered the pain that came after it. It made him sick. It made him shake his head. Close his eyes. And hold his heart.

_ "Beautiful!"—"Awe-inspiring!"—"Positively lovely!"—"Well done!"_

Only the masses thought so.

_ "Simply marvelous!"—"Bravo!"—"_Bellissimo_!_"_—"Encore! Encore!"_

Because Shadow never thought it a day in his life. It was a curse, a means to no end. He felt so empty inside. So listless. So dead, that he wanted to pull aside the student-cosmetician and tell her "You're just making up a corpse for a funeral."

A darkness in Shadow's eyes made him space out. "Captain? Captain, are you okay…?" A stage hand's voice hadn't reached very far.

_ "Yes. That's right. I'm just a made-up…_body._"_

More clicks, more flashes. More roses buried his tip-toes. Voracious clapping, whistling, the main house brimmed with manmade pomp. But they had only yielded to a siren song. Those flashes were desensitizing, tears were maddening, and roses went from red to black without notice.

Much like the wings overshadowing him. In foreboding grace, the swan was obviously invisible to the onlookers.

_ "I'm a made-up body with no funeral to be honored in."_

* * *

"Babe? You 'wake?"

Through some strange means, it was nearing nighttime. Dark edges had settled atop the roofs farther away. The sun was gone, only twilit streaks remained, but lanterns bobbed in droves outside: Young trick-or-treaters prowled the streets in search of candy. Stoop-side jack-o'-lanterns welcomed them, with some neighbors just as festive as the Halloween raiders themselves. Other homes gave dark and uninterested vibes, leaving some ghosts and pirates disheartened. But they simply moved on to the next house to get their treats.

The moonlight wasn't exactly the best, but that sliver of orange waning crescent still looked eerie. Blinking rapidly, Shadow looked around. Sonic was the first person to come into view.

"You looked like you were having an intense daydream." Sonic was careful with his words. He didn't want to startle the black hedgehog. "You awake now?" he asked, a bit more playful this time.

"Was I asleep? How long was I out?" Shadow held his head as he asked. He quickly noticed that his Spirit Week costume was still on; he flinched. "What happened at the Halloween Special? Did we perform? I don't…?"

Sonic's eyes veered away a bit. "Yeah, everything went well at the Halloween Special. Full house, as usual, but…" A hesitance entered those eyes. "It didn't seem like you were all there. Everything went according to the schedule. It's just…afterwards…you kinda wandered back here. On your own." Sonic could feel the dismay that captured Shadow's features. "I didn't know if you'd zoned out to the max or what, but Knuckles, Espio, and I followed you back."

Said echidna and chameleon were seated at the table. In Espio's hands was a cup of hot tea. His curled tail waved at him, and Knuckles pushed up a pumpkin basket into the table's center. Apparently, they had gone trick-or-treating already. A sign saying "No Tricks or Treats Here!" was half-informative and half-imperative, as it hung on the outside doorknob.

"Just to make sure, y'know?" The chuckle was barely lighthearted.

"But I…? I don't remember _any _of it."

Sonic gasped a little, more at Shadow's shock than his actual words. A gentle clack signaled that Espio had put down his cup. Knuckles gritted a fang. Not to arouse too much anxiety, Sonic let out a nervous chuckle and said, "Well, you had been working _super-_hard this week. Maybe you just need to wind down, from all the Halloween hype. If you want, Knuckles and Espio went trick-or-treating and welcomed us to their candy stash…!"

Espio had plucked out a few chocolate pieces with his fingers. Knuckles rattled the plastic bucket; it sounded healthy of sweets.

Shadow's blink was a tad slow. "No, thanks…I think I'll pass. Sorry."

"A'ight, man," Knuckles shrugged it off, "more for us!" He pulled the bucket back towards his chest, grinning sneakily.

But then, Sonic's quills and tail frazzled like an angry cat. "Well, put some aside for us to have later, ya greedy moron! Jeez!"

Espio patted his smiling lips, as a sign of laughter.

* * *

Night took complete control of the sky. The moon wasn't as orange as it'd been. Lucid clouds chanced a pass across the pale crescent. It was neither quite full enough, nor the weather cold enough, for a moon dog to show up. Nonetheless, the night was in a state where even dead souls could waft through. If no one knew any better, it wouldn't haven surprise anybody if Jet's ghost ever decided to haunt the old Ulysses Andiron Hall. Since then, a nearby library had been restored. Previously serving independently in the City, Wilhelmshaven's financial administrators settled a brokerage with the City Council and managed to buy the property. Despite intensive renovations and the time-crunched schedule, the library was successfully revamped. Albeit, it was a bit farther from the main campus than the boys liked; it would've taken more time—and money—to build another one from scratch.

The displaced boys just had to get used to the library-turned-Home Sweet Third Home. Officially dubbed after both namesakes, "Belsen Andiron Hall."

The Tetrarch Chorus boys decided to call it a night. Knuckles and Espio wished their co-rulers a good night, heading back to the room they shared themselves. Ghoulish cellophane wrap encased handfuls of candy, including fruit snacks, mints, and bubblegum. Those black cat eyes and impish pumpkin faces glistened in the light of Shadow's desk lamp.

"Are you feeling better now, Shadow?"

"…No. My state of mind hasn't really changed."

"Are you still worried about the bad guys?"

In the middle of unzipping his lace-ups, Shadow paused at the somewhat juvenile term. After a conscious moment of thought, he turned his eyes to Sonic and blinked. He saw the blue hedgehog staring him down. A hidden intensity masked by kidlike aggravation. It was complete with a bubbled cheek and stringy knot squiggling over his head. Such a display of character made the black hedgehog huff. Finishing off his boots, he stood from his bedside and proceeded to loosen the half-suit's ascot. "Well…" Disrobement started at the buttons and cuff links. "I guess you can say that."

Sonic's face never moved as he protectively watched Shadow change. He did realize how childish he sounded when "bad guys" came out of his mouth. Which led to the face he made. The knot still squiggled, his head recounting the near-death beating, his short hospital stay, and adjusting to 20/0 vision. Upon waking, he found Shadow sniffling against his chest. Remembering they'd have to play catch-up when they got out, Sonic guffawed in his usual playfulness. He was unwilling to stay in the hospital, despite his incomplete recovery. When he figured out Shadow was getting discharged first, he was incessant with staying by Shadow's side. He didn't know if more attackers would converge on him, but at least he'd be there to take on the brunt of them.

His single-eyed gaze seemed distant. The bat patch was long gone, and only a regular medical patch covered his right eye. Grating wood made Sonic's ear twitch, and that one seeing eye gently leered at Shadow's half-naked body. A twinge of guilt burned the blue hedgehog's throat suddenly. It forced his eye away, a bite on his lip. And a grip to tighten on that hunter-green comforter.

Shadow pulled up his silk bloomers and reached for its matching nightshirt. Fitting too much like baby-dolls, he figured the mint-green pajamas weren't a very good style for him. Much like the rest of his nighttime wardrobe. Sometimes it was so awkward to wear them that he'd ask Sonic if he could borrow anything from his. But a careless pardon denoted Shadow's heavy sigh. Deep crimsons caught the single jade staring.

Another stillness beheld the space.

"You're staring."

A sideway blush. "Aren't you cold in that? I mean, it doesn't look warm at all…?"

Shadow's ears folded down a bit. "Your stare looks more frustrated than captivated, though." He watched his roommate get up from the bottom bunk. It was a slow, thoughtful movement. He didn't want to bang his head on the wooden frame. It was also as if Sonic didn't want a sudden movement to startle him. Crimsons shied to their left. "They are kind of cold, but it's mostly the color that miffs me, really…?"

But after a blur, Shadow found himself chest-to-chest with Sonic. Yet another stillness filled the space. Shadow let out a perplexed sigh.

"Don't worry about the bad guys, Shadow."

But before Shadow could retaliate, Sonic's grip on his wrist moved up his back; a quick shiver came from Shadow. An air of protectiveness had entered the blue hedgehog's voice. Making teardrops squeeze toward cradling lids.

"I promised I'd protect you, and I will. I'm not gonna let what happened last week happen ever again. But, I get the feeling…that that's not the last we'll see of them."

Shadow threw himself away from Sonic. "What do you mean 'not the last we'll see of them'? You mean there'll be more?!"

"I can't say for sure. All I know that should happen now…"—His brows flicked downward.—"…is retaliation."

A snarl began to twist Sonic's face. Shadow could see the lips twitching in agitation. Teeth gritting, failing to hold back those grunts. It was a controlled anger, but Shadow still trembled. As if to counteract the situation's prickliness, Shadow smoothed his hands over Sonic's tense shoulders. They were unbelievably rigid, ready for anything. He wasn't surprised when he brushed along his arms. Biceps and triceps were taut, fists balled. Those opposing hands wrapped them in warm gentleness. One that startled Sonic a little. Downcast carmines couldn't look at him; that single jade was suddenly nervous.

"Does that mean…they'll hurt us again?"

Sonic couldn't answer with a relaxed face. That high-rising moon was losing its orange sliver. Steadily paling to a lighter, sherbet-like hue. Halloween night didn't stop, though: There were still glowing lanterns bouncing up and down the streets. The atmosphere was a peaceful grade of spooky. No thunder clapped, no lightning struck to enhance it. Just harmless, genuine fun—even when it did involve eggs and toilet paper. Some kids outside were loud enough for Sonic to hear; it made his heart sink.

There was something else where his heart was, now. More so, another chest. Frightful, gentle arms enwrapped his torso. Like a child, Shadow clung to Sonic. The Blue Blur went frigid: Shadow's gentleness was a new phenomenon. Quite the opposite, it was one he'd felt before. Just not in a long time.

"For some reason, whenever I thought of Shadow…

a music box would play in my head."

_That chartreuse jonquil comforted Shadow's dress shoe, just before it went up to rest on the marble bench. It was a starry night, and Shadow looked no older than nine years. Dressed sharp in a hunter-green suit, Wilhelmshaven Junior High Academy gleamed. Complete with vast windows and a glowing dome, it was obvious that a performance was scheduled that night. But the garden Shadow was in remained empty. Only he lied there on the bench._

"I could never place the song's name…

but something about it always sounded so sad."

_ Morning twitters warbled from the grove surrounding him. Nature beckoned morning, but the sun never came. Sonic thought it was bizarre. Was it always like this in Shadow's heart? In his mind? And why would such a sad song remind Sonic of him? A tiny white flower rested next to his head. Glassed over, those crimsons stared at nothing in particular._

"Again, he's all alone. Forlorn and lost in thought."

_ Activity: Frantic footsteps shuffled around. The garden was never off-limits. So Shadow could lie there as long as he wanted. Although, they sounded like adult footsteps. And the voices coming from them didn't sound too happy. Little Sonic glared over his shoulder. He was hiding behind a blossoming hedge. Right beside Shadow's head. Orchestral music wafted in and out the scene, underneath the adults' irritation._

"And I find myself wanting to hold him tight, again."

Not anywhere tense as before, Sonic smoothed gentle hands of his own up and down Shadow's waist. From ribcage to hips and up again.

"Please, Sonic. Tell me."

Sonic said nothing as he heard Shadow trying to keep his composure. One chartreuse iris became veiled. He knew where Shadow had gone in his head.

Gripping Sonic's back tighter, "They want something to do with you, don't they?! They beat you to a bloody pulp, and now they're coming back for seconds! I can't let you fight them, Sonic—I won't let you!"

The seventeen-year-old reasoned to let the other vent what was spiraling around in his mind. He made no advances, no gestures. The pale orange sliver in the sky shied behind some lucid sheets.

Shadow huffed. Holding back a choke. "It-…It's happening again…!"

_Broad crimsons gaped at the boy who'd thrown himself on top of him. In spite of all the kicks and snickers that battered his back, Sonic smiled. Shadow didn't know whether to call the blue hedgehog a hero or an idiot. A genuine grade of braveness. A cocky grade of stupidity._

"Sonic…?"

"I have to fight them, Shadow."

"No! I won't let you!"

A huff. "I know who I'm up against. Please, I don't wanna argue with you about it—!"

"Then stop playing Superman and do as I say!" He threw himself out of Sonic's light hold. A shivering fury, Shadow glared back at Sonic. Their eyes matched. But it disheartened Shadow. "I don't want you recklessly endangering yourself! You get so irrational and irate when things like this come up! Wilhelmshaven's Student Body is trying to recover from that incident…! And you're going to stir up even _more _trouble, so Wilhelmshaven's security can be plundered again?!"

A simmering growl: "I'm not gonna let anybody else stick their nose into this, Shadow. Including _yours."_

"What the—Don't stick _your own _nose into it, you idiot!" Shadow snapped back. "Agh, what's wrong with you? What's gotten into you?! Even since Silver went crazy, you've been like this! You're being devious, and you won't tell me anything—!"

"Because I'm trying to _fucking _protect you!"

Disquiet filled the room. And somehow, like from behind cover, the moon peeped past its cloudy veil. But another one lied in wait.

"I never asked you to protect me!"

"You didn't need to ask! You'd _let _those assholes beat the shit out of you, without so much as a fucking 'Help me!', Shadow! If one of us _has _to be the idiot, it's _you!"_

"I didn't want to be a burden to anyone! If you didn't wanna deal with me, then why the hell did you save me?!"

"Fucking dumbass…!" A blood vessel in Sonic's head threatened to burst. He skulked closer towards the table, bobbing around Shadow. Both boys had raised their voices enough to disturb their neighbors. Surely, someone was going to notify an R.A. about the noise. At the moment, though, neither of them cared.

"I always knew I was too high-maintenance for you! Even so, you give yourself excuses, like 'saving me' and 'taking their shit for me,' to get closer to me, huh?! Didn't you realize how pointless it was? Didn't you see that I wanted to suffer in silence?!"

"I'm not gonna watch someone I care about get their ass beat, Shadow…—!"

"You shouldn't have even started to care! Why bother, if I'm just going to cause you more pain, more misery?!" Tears were flushing from Shadow's eyes. "I'm just an annoying pain that wants to be dulled, that wants to be numbed! I only put false hope and appreciation in people…! I am praised and rewarded for my efforts…except none of them are mine." Shadow became riled up again, "And you know why!" He threw an index finger at the equally seething hedgehog. Tears rushing even more, "You knew what you were getting yourself into, yet you came to my rescue anyway! What is it with you—do you like to get beat up?! Do you like to fight?!"—Sonic clenched his fists even tighter.—"You're crazy, too, and I don't understand why! Why go to such insane lengths…?" His voice was soft, but only for a moment. "I'm not worth it, you idiot! Just stop it! Stop protecting me! Stop trying to be a hero all the goddamn time! I'm not worth the effort, so why do you even bother?!"

"Isn't it fucking _obvious?! _It's because I love you, Shadow! _I love you, damn it!"_

Another disquieting pause blew in once more. Just after the crash of a mirror's face getting punched in.

"You never understood why I did what I did because I'd _never fucking let_ you." Like a smoldering fire, Sonic's anger relaxed back into its cracked sconce. "I fought because it was _my_ way of expressing how much I cared about you. How much _I _didn't wanna see you suffer. It was selfish, and stupid, and desperate, but I'm not gonna say your idea was _any better. _Because I can't. And _you _won't either." That single jade seared into Shadow's psyche, causing his knees to knock. "I did that crazy shit because I cared about you. And I will do that shit all over again. For _you. _And _you a-fucking-lone." _With intimidation in his step, Sonic skulked closer to Shadow. Blood coursed from his knuckles, under where his other hand held them. "I will ignore my own pain for the sake of taking on yours. I will throw myself into the dirt, cast off my pride, and take whatever's comin' at me…so you won't have to."

There was a dreary darkness that veiled Sonic's iris. It might've been the pallid orange tingeing it a bit, but the dreariness felt sullen and irritable. Like a kid, but a frustrated and nearly raging one.

"Why the hell is it so wrong for me to protect somebody I care about? Why is it wrong…to protect _you?"_

Although Sonic sounded sincere, Shadow noticed him skulking closer and closer, so he pulled himself back farther and farther. After a tango between predator and prey, Shadow caved to such a frightening sight. His knees buckled, landing him in front of his desk. A tad hopelessly, Sonic watched Shadow cower behind the arms he'd thrown over his head and face. He saw a piece of candy tap onto the floor. It must've been from the bag he'd opened.

Sonic sneered. "And don't you say it's because you're not worth it, Babe." At a kneel now, he lifted up the candy that fell. He examined it, then looked to the terror that creased every bit of Shadow's face. "'Cause that's not true. And you and I both know it," he ended, placing the candy tenderly in Shadow's wobbly palm. "It was hard work, y'know…trying to get you down that damn slide," he ended again, but with an annoyed chuckle and shaking head.

Shadow, purely confused and unsure, glanced down at the candy in his hand. He blinked at the Tootsie Roll piece there. And let out an unsteady sigh. He didn't hear the Resident Assistant knocking on the door.

"Such fearlessness…should be a crime."

_Another younger Sonic, at twelve this time, thumped his foot impatiently. He glared at twelve-year-old Shadow, in that same manner. For one reason or another, he merely watched him. Sonic's heart sank with Shadow's demeanor. The black hedgehog's sulking was nigh unbearable._

_ "Hey!" Sonic whined, prepubescent voice gruff and raspy. "Slide down already! There're other kids who wanna play on that, y'know!"_

"Such unforgiving bravery…should not be praised."

**SMACK.**

A palm had swiped across Sonic's muzzle. Some of the blood at his knuckles decided to rush to his cheek, now. Wordless from the sight of Shadow's tears, Sonic made no movements, spoke no words. Not even a yelp from the slap. He took it so flawlessly. He even had the nerve to chuckle under his breath. Shadow's own face flushed in embarrassment and agitation.

"Babe, stop, you know I'm not gonna hit you."

His voice was suddenly suave, almost sensual, with reassurance. Like a reminder, to calm Shadow down with. And it made the black hedgehog turn to butter. Sonic's careful, albeit hesitant, hands melted into his fur and flesh. Security braced the room: Sonic planted tender, apologetic kisses on the tops of Shadow's hands before going to the door.

Shadow didn't hear all the conversation between Sonic and the antsy R.A. He failed to react to how well Sonic was playing it off until the R.A. nailed the ploy and reprimanded him. The subject switched to Sonic's cut knuckles and a very evident shattered mirror, somehow. The R.A. suddenly got suspicious at the sight of him sitting on the floor. "It's not what you think! I can explain, honest!" Sonic chuckled in his defense.

Shadow just sat there. Even after Sonic was ordered to clean up the glass and heed the disruption warning he'd been placed under. The R.A. left without another word. And Shadow remained on the floor, staring at the Tootsie Roll in his hand.

"Did you wanna share it with me, Babe?"

A weak, timid lift of Shadow's chin. Blank, clear rubies looked through Sonic. Sonic made an awkward face before taking up the chocolate piece. "Here, let's share it, okay?" And before Shadow knew it, the air in the room freshened; Sonic seemed to be transforming the angry heat into a calmer, sensual warmth. "You eat this half. I'll take the other one. Okay?" After a good twist, he popped his half into his mouth and presented the other half to Shadow. There was no reaction. A couple blinks made Sonic see Shadow's downhearted shyness.

"I'm sorry I scared you, Shadow. Just…eat this with me. You'll feel better. I promise."

Both boys hands, bandaged and not, came together as Sonic pressed his lips against Shadow's own. There was no reception, at first. But soon, Shadow could taste the candy's semisweet cocoa on Sonic's tongue. Shadow never took a liking to super-sweet sweets, but Sonic's kiss made the Tootsie Roll taste better than usual. The chocolate bit tugged back and forth in their mouths, squeezing past forgiving tongues.

Until Shadow decided to take it for himself. An intense blush permeated his cheeks. Pitter-pattering away, his heart bumped against his chest wall. He chewed it tenderly, careful not to get it stuck in his teeth. "Hey…!" he heard his roommate whine. But soon after seeing him pop the other half into his mouth, Shadow growled at Sonic's sneaky grin.

There was peace in the room. A kind that followed an argument and its resolution. It was an awkward, relieving peace. And that chocolate kiss was the cake topper.

_ "Having a heyday over there, are we? Humph. Just keep proving me wrong…you idiot."_

_"Épisode VIII" - Premier Arc _Set…

* * *

Quick References: 1) Halloween Special Announcements - "Makemagic" by Jealkb, _Yu-Gi-Oh! 10th Anniversary Movie_.

2) Shadow Memory Sequence - "Lilium" (Music Box Vers.) by Chieko Kawabe, _Elfen Lied_.


End file.
